^>. 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


4 


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1.0 


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Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)872-4503 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


cS\ 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


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L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
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de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-dtre  uniques  du 
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une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  mdthode  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiqu6s  ci-dessous. 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


Q 


Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 


r~~|    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  endommagie 


0    Images  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagies 


D 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurie  et/ou  pelliculde 


D 


Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restaurdes  et/ou  pelliculdes 


I      I    Cover  title  missing/ 


Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


l/ 


Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  ddcolor^es,  tachetdes  ou  piqudes 


□ 


Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  giographiques  en  couleur 


n 


Pages  detached/ 
Pages  ddtachdes 


D 


Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


Showthrough/ 
Transparence 


D 
D 


Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Relid  avec  d'autres  documents 


D 
D 


Quality  of  print  varies/ 
Qualiti  in6gale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  material/ 
Comprend  du  matdriel  supplementaire 


n 


n 


Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

Lareliure  serr6e  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  int^rieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
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II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajoutdes 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais,  lorbque  cela  itait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  it6  filmies. 


D 
D 


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Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
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obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


Additional  comments:/ 
^  I    Commentaires  suppldmentaires; 


Wrinkled  pages  may  film  slightly  out  of  focus. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film6  au  taux  de  reduction  indiquA  ci-dessous. 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

30X 

v/ 

12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


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to  the  generosity  of: 

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Toronto 
Sco^t  Library 

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sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
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first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — ^  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


L'exemplaire  fiimt  fut  reproduit  grAce  A  la 
ginirositi  de: 

York  University 
Toronto 
Scott  Library 

Les  images  suivantes  ont  tti  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettetA  de  l'exemplaire  film*,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimte  sont  filmte  en  commenpant 
par  le  premier  plat  at  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'iilustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  salon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  filmte  en  commen9ant  par  la 
premiere  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'lMustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  dee  symboles  »uivants  apparaltra  sur  la 
derniire  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — ^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
filmfo  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diffirents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clich6,  il  est  film*  d  partir 
de  Tangle  supirieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas.  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  n<icessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mithode. 


32X 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

\  I 


»■    ■■-'-■.  K- 


-^ 


GREAT   CITIES 


99  TUM 


•WORLD. 


•V    n  VHxxB 


GLORY  AND  IN  THEIR  DESOLATION, 


XMBftAOura 


CITIES  OF  EUROPE.  ASIA,  AFRICA  AND  AUEBICi. 


•    J 


wySf  8  Sistant  nf  Smjiiirtniit  (Cniiita 

CP  THEIR  TIMH 


I* 


<, 


BY   JOHN   FROST,. LL.D. 

AUTUOR  0?  PERILOUS  ADV£NIURJ£3  OF  rRATELLERg,  ETC,  Eia 

AUBURN: 

ALDEN,    15EAKDSLEY    &    CO. 

ROCIIEbTBU: 
WANZER,    BEARD  SLEY    &    CO. 

1853. 


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Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1852,  by 

JOHN    FROST, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States, 
in  and  for  the  Eastern  District  of  Jhmeui$)ttmkik. 


ym»s 


FHILADUPaU: 
■nttOTTPEI)  BT  QBOKOI  OB. 


irear  1852,  by 


United  States, 

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OEEikT   €ITIES 


or    THE 


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AUBURN: 
ALDEN,   BEARDSLEY    &   CO. 

1852. 


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•  "T"  .' 


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I'M 


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PREFACE. 


The  idea  of  this  work  was  suggested  by  Buckley's  Great 
Cities  of  the  AocicDt  World,  and  to  his  pages  I  am  indebted 
for  a  considerable  portion  of  what  relates  to  ancient  cities. 

The  limits  of  the  work  have  occasioned  my  noticing  com- 
paratively few  of  the  modern  cities.  Those  of  our  own  conntry 
have  generally  escaped  any  long  periods  of  desolation,  and 
I  have  therefore  noticed  but  three,  the  great  commercial 
emporiums  of  the  north  and  the  south. 

Indeed,  the  great  moral  feature  of  the  work,  the  compari- 
son of  cities  in  their  glory,  and  in  a  state  of  utter  and  com- 
plete desolation,  is  best  conveyed  by  a  consideration  of  tho 
great  cities  of  antiquity.  Still,  the  comparative  prosperity 
and  decline  or  misfortune  of  modern  cities  is  worthy  of 
notice.  London,  tho  modern  metropolis  of  the  world,  has 
not  escaped  the  desolation  of  firo  and  pestilence,  and  Paris, 
Vienna,  Madrid,  and  New  York  have  each  been  in  possession 
of  a  foreign  enemy. 

Utility  is  the  object  which  I  endeavour  always  to  keep  in 
view;  and  tho  kind  reception  which  my  humble  efforts  in 
the  departments  of  history  and  biography  have  experienced 
from  the  public,  assure  me  that  this  principle  is  approved. 
I  trust  that  the  "  Great  Cities  of  the  World"  will  be  re- 
garded with  tho  same  degree  of  favour  which  has  distin- 
guished my  other  publications  in  the  same  department  of 
literature. 

.  ■  (3) 


% 


^5 


/ 


CONTENTS. 


I  ! 


Intkoduction, 

Babylon,     . 

Nineveh, 

Thebes, 

Memphis  and  Hsliopolis 

Persefolis,         . 

Damasctts, 

Palhtba,     . 

Baalbek  or  Baalgad,    . 

Tyeb, 

Petra,     .... 

The  Rock-hewn  Cities  of 

Peking, 

Jerusalem, 

Smyrna, 

Ephescs, 

Sardis, 

Thyatyra, 

Ancient  Cities  of  America, 

Athens, 

Corinth, 

Elis, 

BOME, 

Constantinople, 

Venice, 

Vienna, 

St.  Petersburqh, 

Madrid, 

Paris, 

London,      .        .        , 

Quebec, 

New  York, 

New  Orleans, 

Mexico, 

Boston, 


India, 


rioi 
6 

13 

43 

66 

68 

79 

91 

98 

111 

123 

137 

154 

167 

191 

222 

228 

236 

246 

250 

381 

,383 

'  398 

402 

420 

433 

451 

462 

472 

480 

486 

496 

501 

517 

629 

686 


V 


% 


n 

« 


INTRODUCTION. 


HE  great  cities  of  the 
world  have  an  interest  pe 
culiavly  their  own.  They 
mark  the  progress  of  man- 
kind in  arts,  commerce, 
and  civilization,  and  they 
form  a  sort  of  index  to  the 
rise  and  fall  of  national 
greatness.  In  examining  their  condition  in  different 
epochs  of  history,  we  learn  lessons  of  wisdom  and 
experience,  and  pass  over  a  field  of  observation  replete 
with  subjects  of  study  and  reflection. 
.  I  have  entered  upon  the  subject  in  this  volume  with 
considerable  advantage  by  having  before  me  the  work 

(5) 


6 


INTRODUCTION. 


of  Mr.  Buckley  on  the  Great  Cities  of  the  Ancient 
AVorld,  from  which  I  shall  frequently  quote.  His 
introduction  is  suited  to  my  present  purpose,  and  I 
readily  adopt  the  following  remarks  of  his  in  this 
connexion. 

The  reader  must  not  expect  to  find  in  the  following 
pages  an  elaborate  and  circumstantial  history  of  the 
world,  or  even  of  those  portions  of  it  which  form  the 
titles  of  the  respective  chapters.  Had  I  attempted  to 
detail  the  physical  influences  and  political  events  which 
have  raised  up  cities  in  the  midst  of  deserts,  and,  in 
turn,  left  deserts  where  cities  once  stood ;  had  I  told 
the  separate  story  of  each  individual  among  mankind, 
who  had  appeared  as  their  founder,  revolutionist,  or 
destroyer ;  had  I,  in  a  word,  attempted  to  distil  the 
Tast  contents  of  the  writings  and  monuments  of 
antiquity  into  the  present  small  vessel,  I  must  have 
signally  failed  in  the  attempt.  Such  a  history  of  the 
cities  of  the  ancient  world  must  have  been  too  closely 
mixed  up  with  that  of  the  vast  countries  of  which  they 
were  but  the  centres ;  the  points  from  whence  so  njany 
mighty  areas  of  civilization  expo  aded,  and  the  hearts, 
as  it  were,  that  fed  and  stipiulated  the  life  of  the 
surrounding  nations,  and  with  whose  expiring  glory 
the  renown  of  those  nations  gradually  sank  into  oblivion. 

I  would  rather  hope  that  the  plan  I  have  adopted 
may  le;id  the  reader  from  a  contemplation  of  the  salient 
points  of  a  limited  history,  to  the  sublimcr  study  of 
the  vast  and  entire  scheme  of  historical  humanity  I 
would  rather  Avish  him  to  look  upon  these  sketches  as 
outlines  to  be  filled  up  by  the  gradual  maturing  of  his 
own  thoughts  and  readings  in  historic  lore.    The  great 


\ 


i  'I 


-i^i 


P\ 


§.-. 


INTRODUCTION. 


•f 


;i*olt  of  too  many  of  our  histories,  is,  that  they 
are  circumstantial  and  accurate,  yet  lifeless  and 
unpicturesque.  While  the  minutest  questions  of 
chronology  are  reduced  to,  at  all  events,  a  specious 
appearance  of  system ;  while  identity  or  distinction  in 
the  case  of  persons  bearing  the  same  name  is  insisted 
upon  with  exemplary  precision ;  and  while  every 
authority,  ancient  or  modern,  is  sifted,  questioned, 
and  proved,  history  still  remains  a  bare  detail  of  facta 
and  persons,  treated  as  if  separable,  and  viewed  with 
the  taste  of  an  anatomist,  who  loses  his  admiration  of 
the  majestic  ocean  in  his  microscopic  examination  of 
the  minutest  infusoria  with  which  its  inmost  recesses 
are  peopled. 

It  was  the  knowledge  of  this  defect  that  led  the 
great  reformer  of  ancient  history,  Niebuhr,  to  adopt 
the  more  comprehensive  style  of  narrative  in  his 
"Lectures  on  Roman  History."  Feeling,  doubtless, 
that  the  noble  work  in  which  he  had  already  set  forth 
and  defended  his  ingenious  theories,  was  far  more 
learned  than  popular,  he  was  too  wise  to  persist  in  an 
uninstructive  system  ;  and  his  lectures,  handed  down 
to  us  by  the  praiseworthy  diligence  of  his  pupils,  have 
almost  superseded  his  "  History"  in  their  influence 
upon  the  studies  of  youth.  Dr.  Arnold,  who,  without 
adding  much  to  our  stock  of  knowledge,  was  a  judicious 
and  tasteful  adapter  of  the  labours  of  other  scholars, 
rendered  the  same  system  yet  more  popular  by 
his  greater  elegance  of  language ;  and  the  smallest 
acquaintance  with  German  historical  works — ro  many 
of  them  now  familiarized  to  ourselves  by  translation — 
will  furnish   a  fair  staff  of  goodly  imitators  of  an 


•  ^yjiiiiiitv^ 


^mmn^'' 


8 


INTRODtrCTlON. 


h ! 


ezeollent  principle.  It  is  in  humble  imitation  of  such 
examples,  that  I  have  sought  to  give  a  broad  outline 
of  the  histories  of  the  most  interesting  cities  of  the 
vorld,  to  point  to  their  doinj^s  and  sufferings,  as  tho 
Tvorkings  of  the  mechanism  of  humanity,  ever  pressing 
forward,  but  by  complicated  and  uncertain  movements, 
to  tho  realization  of  tho  eternal  design,  and  to  connect 
man's  works  with  man's  nature,  not  to  admire  them  as 
isoln  ted  specimens  of  foregone  ingenuity. 

When  wo  view  tho  sand-burled  monuments  of 
Egyptian  magnificence  on  their  own  site,  or  study 
Ihc  fragments  which,  thousands  of  miles  away  from 
tho  places  they  adorned  for  ages,  form  the  greatest 
ornaments  of  our  own  museums;  when  wo  read  of  the 
convulsions  of  nature,  and  the  wars  of  men,  which  havo 
produced  vast  and  sudden  ruin,  or  when  we  examine 
tho  minute  polypus  which  has  wrought  as  sure,  but 
more  tardy  destruction  in  Calabria,  than  its  deadly 
predecessor  tho  earthquake,  we  feel  that  even  tho 
"worm  and  tho  moth"  have  their  nicho  in  the  temple 
of  history.  What  the  headlong  swoop  of  armed  forces 
has  spared,  that  the  minutest  things  of  earth  have 
claimed  for  their  own,  and  the  same  almost  invisible 
agency  that  has  partitioned  tlto  depths  of  the  ocean 
with  coral  reefs,  has  eaten  away  tho  well-chiselled 
marbles  that  once  bore  witness  to  the  pride  of  man's 
greatness.  Did  we  seek  to  write  history  with  perfect 
accuracy,  how  humiliating  its  details,  how  minute  its 
subdivisions ! 

But  in  defence  of  our  plan  of  choosing  the  history 
of  cities  rather  than  countries,  it  may  be  well  to 
observe  that  the  most  natural  feelings  of  men  lead 


IKTllODUCriON. 


thorn  to  regard  towns  and  cities  as  the  proper  objects 
of  their  attention.  Few  foreigners  would  wish  to 
commence  their  knowledge  of  England  on  Salisbury 
Plain.  The  prestige  of  a  supposed  Druidical  foundation 
Avould  scarcely  bring  the  most  enthusiastic  antiquarian 
direct  to  the  cromlechs  of  Wales.  London  is  as 
naturally  and  inseparably  associated  with  general  ideas 
of  England  as  Rome  with  Latium — Thebes  with  ancient 
Egypt.  To  the  student  of  the  physical  world  every 
corner  of  this  wide  earth  teems  with  manifold  interest, 
and  makes  him  almost  seek  for  a  wider.  Our  purpose 
moves  in  a  less  extended  sphere ;  it  is  to  trace  man 
where  man  has  worked  and  thought  best,  to  read  bis 
history  in  the  greatest  standing  memorials  of  its 
progress,  and  to  make  stones  tell  the  sad  story  of 
those  who  laid  them.  We  will  hover  around  the  ruins 
of  the  cities  which  arc  our  melancholy  and  silent  guides 
to  the  men  of  old — we  will  endeavour  in  idea  to  restore 
them,  and  to  people  them  with  the  busy  thousands  who 
once  strove  and  failed,  loved  and  hated,  even  as  the 
men  of  our  own  times. 

Another  advantage,  which  such  a  plan  of  narrative 
presents,  is  that  its  data  are  more  satisfactory — its 
principles  better  ascertained  than  the  varying  and 
uncertain  history  of  nations.  Towns  and  cities  are 
the  stand-points  of  history.  Groat  as  may  be  the 
prevalence  of  mythical  associations  which  surrounds 
every  ancient  city,  the  fragments  of  ancient  buildings 
stamp  even  tradition  with  a  certain  amount  of  reality. 
Although  every  temple  is  but  the  silent  chronicle  of 
some   lifeless   superstition — a   stone-graven   story   of 


man's  forgetfulness  of  his  God 


-vet  in  the  magnitude 


! 


! 


r 


10 


INTRODUCTION. 


•# 


11- ^;; 


of  the  dimensions,  the  exquisite  finish  of  the  details  of 
such  buildings,  we  trace  the  vestiges  of  human  power, 
and  marvel  at  the  wondrous  works  performed  in 
an  age  where  physical  force  derived  little  aid  from 
mechanics, — when  machinery  was  most  rude  and 
elementary,  and  when  every  newly  raised  structure 
seemed  a  fresh  triumph  over  stubborn  materials  and 
imperfect  resources.  * 

Nor  let  us  forget  that  it  is  in  the  ruins  of  ancient 
cities  that  we  find  the  pictured  chronicles  of  the  habits 
and  customs  of  the  early  world.  On  the  facades  of 
the  temples  at  Edfou  or  Salsette,  on  the  slabs  which 
line  the  exhumed  palaces  of  Nimroud,  we  behold  our 
forefathers  occupied  in  all  the  arts  of  war  and  peace ; 
and  from  these  rude,  but  spirited  efibrts  of  the  chisel, 
we  learn  the  dress,  the  arms,  the  sports,  the  domestic 
and  political  life  of  those  who,  though  not  forgotten, 
are  now  unrepresented  among  the  catalogue  of  nations. 

It  will,  perhaps,  be  matter  of  complaint  that  a 
detached  notice  of  each  city  has  been  preferred  to  a 
systematic  and  progressive  history,  arranged  with  a 
more  strict  reference  to  chronology.  To  this  objection 
I  can  only  oppose  the  intent  of  the  book.  I  offer  not 
a  history,  but  a  series  of  historical  sketches.  I  do  not 
mention  all  the  cities  of  the  world,  but  those  which  are 
the  best  representatives  of  human  progress  ;  in  a  word, 
I  do  not  seek  to  supersede  the  reading  of  larger  and 
more  learned  works,  but  to  give  the  student  some  zest 
for,  and  some  regulated  principle  of  reading  whereby  be 
may  the  better  enjoy  and  profit  by  the  manifold  learning 
and  industry  of  the  greut  writers  of  man's  history. 

To  enumerate  the  authorities  that  have  si;j!j)lied  the 


i\ 


♦♦ 


INTRODUCTION. 


11 


materials  for  the  following  pages,  would  be  tedious 
and  unprofitable,  especially  as  they  are  in  general 
indicated.  It  seemed  useless  to  crowd  the  margins 
with  references  in  support  of  the  facts  mentioned — 
such  particulars  being  common  property.  In  respect 
to  theories  or  opinions,  I  have  endeavoured  to  bo 
accurate  in  referring  them  to  their  lawful  owners, 
making,  however,  a  fair  allowance  for  the  coincideuces 
common  in  such  investigations. 

It  remains  for  me  to  express  a  hope  that  this  little 
volume  may  make  some  few  persons  more  fond  of 
history,  anditsthat  the  hard-worked  teacher  may  find 
that  severest  difficulty  in  juvenile  study,  circuj^stantial 
dryness,  somewhat  softened  by  the  plan  I  have  pursued. 
If  my  younger  readers  will  look  upon  the  "  Cities  ot 
the  World"  rather  as  a  reading  book  than  a  school 
book,  my  best  wishes  will  be  fulfilled. 


■^■''^}. 


a 


u .-.--, 


¥ 


>it 


t 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


BABYLON. 


HATEVER  may  have  been  the 
energy  and  intelligence  of  Nim- 
rod,  the  Romulus  of  the  East- 
ern world,  and  great  as  may 
have  been  the  results  brought 
about  by  the  crafty  and  reso- 
lute policy,  Babel  must  have 
been  an  infant  city  in  compari- 
son with  the  Babylon  of  a  later  period.  Belus  is,  by 
common  consent,  the  prince  to  whom  much  of  the  mag- 
nificence of  this  city  owed  its  origin,  and  although  the 

2  (13) 


14 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  TUB  WO^D. 


II 


I 


Bible  furnishes  us  with  no  information  as  to  his  imme* 
diate  successors,  pagan  history  affords  a  sufficiently 
plausible  account  of  their  share  in  the  work  of  improve- 
ment. Among  such  narratives,  it  is  not  unusual  to 
find  a  woman  occupying  a  conspicuous  position ;  and 
the  Semiramis  of  Babylon  is,  to  our  own  idea,  as  prob- 
able a  character  as  Catherine  of  Russia  or  Elisabeth 
of  England.  It  has  become  fashionable  to  explain  away 
facts,  and  to  reduce  real  personages  to  ideal  represen- 
tatives of  principles  or  developments  in  society.  Semi- 
ramis has  been  of  the  number  whose  very  existence 
has  thus  been  called  in  question.  But  while  we  may 
admire  the  ingenuity  that  can  thus  convert  history  into 
fiction,  we  must  deprecate  the  danger  of  reducing  fairly 
established  truths  to  plausible  fictions,  of  reasoning 
facts  into  theories,  and  substituting  rationalistic  asser- 
tion for  historical  statement.  The  greatest  objection 
to  such  theory  is  its  easy  proneness  to  abuse.  The 
same  principle  that,  in  the  hands  of  Niebulir,  has  struck 
sparks  of  truth  into  the  patchwork-shreds  of  early  Ro- 
man history,  has,  in  the  crude  ramblings  of  Strauss, 
elicited  infidelity  from  the  voice  of  Truth  itself. 

But,  while  there  seems  to  be  little  reason  for  de- 
priving Semiramis  of  her  historical  existence,  we  are, 
no  doubt,  extremely  deficient  in  information  that  can 
be  relied  on.  Those  who  would  judge  of  the  character 
of  Queen  Elizabeth  from  the  panegyrics,  dedications, 
and  epigrams  of  her  time,  or  who  would  believe  all  the 
traditions  attached  to  the  memory  of  Lucrezia  Borgia, 
would  perhaps  feel  satisfied  with  the  loose  narrative  of 
public  greatness  and  private  crime,  through  which  the 
memory  of  Semiramis  has  reached  our  times.     More 


¥ 


« 


ft 


(# 


'^.d 


BABYLON. 


15 


philos'^'^hical  readers  will  rather  consider  these  narra- 
tives as  springing  from  opposite  views  of  the  same 
character,  and  as  therefore  equally  prone  to  exaggera- 
tion, although  in  different  directions.  Incest,  murder, 
and  treachery  on  the  one  hand,  intellectual  vigour,  un- 
bounded liberality,  and  public  spirit  on  the  other,  form 
the  contradictory  features  of  the  picture  held  up  to  our 
view.  Nevertheless,  Semiramis  divides  the  honour  with 
Lelus  of  being  the  founder  of,  at  all  events,  the  new 
Babylon,  and  it  is  of  this  city  in  its  days  of  glory  that 
we  will  now  attempt  a  description.  * 

Before  detailing  the  account  given  by  the  ancient 
traveller  and  eye-witness,  Herodotus,  we  may  observe 
that  the  flatness  of  the  surrounding  country  greatly 
favours  its  probability.  Its  massive  walls,  unlike  those 
forming  the  colossal  rampart  of  China,  had  to  traverse 
no  devious  hill  ranges,  to  depress  themselves  into  no 
valleys.  Hence  the  geometrical  regularity,  which  is 
80  seldom  found  even  in  the  most  modern  towns  and 
cities,  becomes  not  only  easy,  but  natural.  Further- 
more, if  the  Babylonians,  as  there  is  good  reason  to 
suppose,  had  really  made  some  progress  in  astronv. oiy, 
the  restoration  of  the  Tower  of  Babel  under  its  new 
form  of  the  Temple  of  Belus  was  a  probable  step,  espe- 
cially as,  commanding  a  survey  of  the  surrounding  coun- 
try, it  might  have  readily  indicated  the  approach  of  an 
invading  enemy. 

Babylon  formed  an  exact  square,  each  of  the  sides 
being  one  hundred  and  twenty  furlongs  (fifteen  miles) 
in  length,  and  its  whole  circuit  four  hundred  and  eighty 
furlongs,  or  twenty  leagues.  Its  walls  were  eighty-seven 
feet  in   thickness,  so  that  several  chariots  could  run 


v\ 


Fl 


19 


QRfiAT  CITIES  OP  fRE  WORLD. 


n 


I 


,>  •    ( 


l[ 


I 


abreast  along  their  Bummit,  and  thoj  were  reared  to 
the  height  of  three  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  The  vast 
ditch  which  encompassed  the  walls  had  furnished  tho 
matcriuls  for  tho  largo  bricks  of  which  it  was  com- 
posed, and  which  also  formed  the  lining  of  the  ditch. 
The  layers  of  brick  were  cemented  with  bitumen,  abun- 
dantly supplied  by  the  pits  in  the  neighborhood.  Twenty- 
five  gates  of  brass  on  each  of  tho  four  sides,  formed 
tho  approaches  to  a  corresponding  number  of  streets 
intersecting  one  another  at  right  angles,  each  street 
being  fifteen  miles  in  length  and  a  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  in  width.  To  complete  tho  internal  arrangements, 
four  other  streets,  with  houses  only  on  one  side,  tho 
ramparts  being  on  tho  other,  were  added,  each  being 
two  hundred  feet  in  length.  By  this  precise  regularity 
of  arrangement,  Babylon  was  divided  into  six  hundred 
and  seventy-six  squares,  each  square  being  two  miles 
and  a  quarter  in  circuit.  Tho  houses  were  very 
lofty,  being  carried  to  the  height  of  three  or  four 
stories ;  but  the  width  of  tho  streets,  and  tho  open 
courts  and  gardens  within  hollow  squares,  must  havo 
produced  a  perfect  ventilation  and  a  healthy  openness 
that  form  a  strange  contrast  to  the  cramped,  irregular, 
.  and  unhealthy  streets  in  some  of  the  most  refined  and 
civilized  of  modern  cities,  even  in  our  own  country.  It 
is  probable  that  the  streets  nearest  the  walls  were  de- 
voted to  mercantile  aflfairs  and  to  the  preservation  of 
stores,  while  those  nearer  the  centre  formc<l  the  rcsi- . 
dences  of  the  higher  classes.  The  Euphrates  inter- 
sected the  city  from  north  to  south,  and  over  it  was 
erected  a  magnificent  bridge,  about  a,  furlong  in  length, 
and  sixty  feet  in  width.     At  its  extremities  were  two 


■a^' 


BABTI-Oil. 


Vf 


pslncct,  tho  ol*i  pnkcc  w.i  tbo  oastcrn  lido  of  the  riv0r, 
il>o  now  one  on  tho  wc.-'torn.  Near  tho  old  palaco  stood 
tho  tcmplo  ol  ^.lAm,  Wa  will  llotcn  to  tho  description 
of  llic  Fiitliur  of  lliitt'rv.* 

*'  In  tlio  middle  of  ilie  city,  is  the  temple  of  tho  god 
Bclus,  with  hrazen  ^atts  rcmuiiuug  up  to  my  own  time, 
(luailiangular,  and  occupying  a  space  of  two  furlongs. 
In  the  middle  of  tho  racred  precinct  stands  a  solid 
tnwcr,  a  furlong  both  in  tloptu  nnd  width;  upon  this 
tower  another  is  erected,  and  another  upoa  this,  to  tbo 
number  of  eight  towers.  An  ascent  to  them  has  been 
formed  on  the  outfiide,  in  a  spiral  stuircaso  running 
round  all  tho  towers.  As  one  reaches  about  half  way, 
resting  places  and  seats  are  provided.  In  tho  last 
tower  is  a  large  shiino,  and  witliin  tho  templo  lies  a 
lirgo  bed  well  appointed,  and  near  it  stands  a  goldeu 
table ;  but  there  is  no  iiuai^e  v. Ithia  ;  nor  does  any  one 
remain  there  by  night  but  a  native  feroale,  ono  whom 
tho  god  has  chosen  in  i)referonco  to  all  others,  as  say 
tho  Chaldscans,  who  are  tho  priests  of  the  god.  And 
thcso  same  men  assert  what  I  can  by  no  moans  believe, 
namely,  that  the  god  himself  frequents  the  temple,  and 
reposes  on  the  couch.  And  there  belongs  to  the  templo 
in  Babylon  another  shrine  lower  down,  where  thero 
stands  a  large  golden  image  of  the  god,  and  near  it  is 
placed  a  large  golden  table,  and  tho  pedestal  and  tho 
throne  are  of  gold ;  and,  as  the  Chaldajans  assert,  these 
things  were  made  for  eight  hundred  talents  cf  gold. 
And  outside  the  shrine  is  a  golden  altar  ;  and  thero  is 
also  another  great  altar  whero  oiTeviags  of  sheep  aro 


*  Herodotui,  i.  18L 

2» 


H- 


ii 


>.1 

I 

i 


1 


Hi 


I    f 


'  I' 


18 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


sacrificed,  for  it  is  not  lawful  to  sacrifice  victims  upon 
the  golden  altar,  but  sucl:lings  only;  but  upon  the 
greater  altar  the  Chaldseans  offer  every  year  a  thousand 
talents  worth  of  frankincense  at  the  time  when  they 
celebrate  the  festival  of  the  god.  And  there  was  at 
that  time  a  golden  statue  in  the  temple  twelve  cubits 
in  height ;  but  I  did  not  see  it,  and  speak  merely  from 
the  report  of  the  Chaldaeans." 

The  whole  of  the  temple  was  enriched  with  the  ofl^er- 
ings  of  private  devotees,  consisting  of  massive  golden 
censers,  statues,  cups,  and  sacred  vessels,  of  a  weight 
and  value  scarcely  to  be  imagined. 

There  is  little  doubt  that  the  external  form  of  this 
tower,  with  the  stones  gradually  tapering  in  width, 
gave  it  the  appearance  of  a  pyramidal  edifice.  Such 
structures  are  common  in  India,  the  finest  specimen 
being  the  great  pagoda  at  Tanjore,  dedicated  to  the 
god  Siva.  It  is  about  two  hundred  feet  m  height,  and, 
like  the  temple  of  Belus,  stands  within  an  area  enclosed 
by  high  walls,  and  contains  a  chamber  that  receives  no 
light  but  from  lamps.  Such  buildings  have  also  been 
discovered  in  Mexico.  Strength  of  form  and  conve- 
nience in  building — such  structures  forming  their  own 
scafiblding  by  their  ascending  platforms — are  obvious 
reasons  for  the  adoption  of  the  pyramidal  style  in  the 
infancy  of  architecture,  the  rude  state  of  implements, 
and  the  rough  simplicity  of  mechanical  appliances. 

Let  us  noAV  turn  to  another  wonder  of  Babylon,  her 
palace  and  hanging  gardens,  which  claimed  a  place 
among  the  wonders  of  the  an(3ient  world.  But  we  must 
first  briefly  advert  to  the  character  and  career  of  Ne- 


M 


\ 


r,Am'T.o\. 


19 


tims  upon 
upon  the 
thousand 
hen  they 
re  was  at 
Ive  cubits 
rely  from 

the  offer- 
re  golden 
a  weight 

m  of  this 

in  width, 

e.     Such 

specimen 

d  to  the 

^ht,  and, 

enclosed 

eives  no 

Iso  been 

conve- 

eir  own 

obA'ious 

in  the 

ments, 

:es. 

|on,  her 
place 
re  must 
iof  Ne- 


bucliadnczzar,  the  most  niagnillcent  of  Babylon's  kmgs, 
to  whom  they  owed  their  origin. 

I  am  not  going  to  enter  into  the  chronological  difl5- 
cultios  of  the  intermediate  history,  but  shall  content 
myself  with  observing  that  Nebuchadnezzar  had  been 
associated  in  the  Chahhcan  empire  with  his  father,  Na- 
bopolassar,  and  that  his  first  appearance  in  history  is 
as  a  conqueror.  Having  recovered  Carchemish,  which 
had  been  wrested  from  the  empire  by  Pharaoh  Necho 
about  n.  c.  (107,  he  turned  his  arms  against  the  Phoe- 
nicians and  the  Jews,  carrying  Jehoiacliim,  king  of 
Judah,  into  captivity,  but  subsequently  leaving  him 
in  Judaea,  stipulating,  however,  for  the  payment  of  a 
heavy  tribute.  The  details  of  the  subsequent  revolts 
of  the  Jews,  terminating  in  the  death  of  the  unfor- 
tunate Zedekiah,  will  be  reserved  for  our  remarks  on 
Jerusalem. 

It  is  to  be  doubted  whether  Nebuchadnezzar  was 
not  actuated  by  policy  in  his  lenity  towards  Jehoiachim, 
rather  than  by  humariity,  and  we  may  fairly  suppose 
that,  like  the  Roman  emperors  at  a  subsequent  period, 
he  had  perceived  the  irritable  and  uncertain  disposition 
of  the  Jews,  and  preferred  a  conciliating  compromise 
to  an  attempt  to  rule  them  as  a  conquered  nation.  His 
design  was,  however,  frustrated,  and  it  was  not  until 
B.  c.  688,  that  Jerusalem,  wholly  conquered,  gave  no 
further  trouble. 

Scripture  furnishes  us  with  many  interesting  particu- 
lars of  the  life  of  this  prince.  That  he  was  a  scourge 
of  the  wicked  in  the  hands  of  the  Lord,  the  fate  of 
Tyre  sufficiently  teaches.  With  unlimited  resources, 
both  of  troops  and  treasure,  loaded  with  the  spoik  of 


^11 


m 


r<  I 


1.1 


20 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


conquered  nations,  find  ^\•ith  a  valour  and  determination 
heightened  and  matured  by  constant  experience,  Nebu- 
chadnezzar entered  on  the  government  of  Babylon. 
How  far  he  may  have  entertalneJ  right  notions  con- 
cerning his  God  ;  how  far  God  may  have  been  with  him ; 
whether  this  "  vessel  of  wrath  "  had  had  his  heart  soft- 
ened and  his  pride  rebuked  by  a  consciousness  of  the 
truth,  wo  cannot  clearly  judge.  But  we  have  good 
reason  for  supposing  that  he  was  not  a  mere  heathen, 
that  his  mind  was  at  times  awakened  to  the  truth,  and 
that  he  may  have  been  an  object  of  God's  final  mercy, 
as  well  as  an  in'itrument  of  his  anger.  Of  the  melan- 
choly story  of  his  blindness  of  heart,  his  deadly  pride, 
and  defection  from  God,  we  shall  soon  have  occasion  to 
speak. 

Nebuchadnezzar,  having  finished  the  work  of  con- 
quest, turned  his  attention  to  aggrandizing  the  .nagni- 
ficence  of  this  marvellous  city.  Repairs  and  decorations 
throughout  the  old  portions  of  the  city,  and  new  public 
buildings  of  wonderful  extent  and  beauty,  gave  Nebu- 
chadnezzar a  claim  to  be  considered  a  second  founder 
of  "  the  lady  of  kingdoms." 

The  hanging  gardens  which  adorned  the  new  palace 
contained  an  area  of  four  hundred  square  feet,  and 
were  composed  of  several  large  terraces,  the  uppermost 
of  which  s*tood  on  a  level  with  the  summit  of  the  city 
walls.  The  ascent  from  one  terrace  to  another  was  by 
staircases  ten  feet  in  width.  This  vast  mass  was 
supported  by  large  arches,  built  one  upon  another, 
externally  strengthened  by  a  wall  twenty-two  feet  in 
tliickness,  covered  with  stones,  rushes,  bitumen,  «nd 
plates  of  lead,  to  prevent  leaking.     On  tho  highest 


BABYLON. 


'    .  / 


jcasion  to 


terrace  Vf&a  an  aqueduct,  supplied  with  water  from  the 
river  by  a  pump,  from  whence  the  whole  gardens  were 
watered.  Tradition  assigns  this  spl^^did  work  to  the 
affectionate  complaisance  of  Nebuchadnezzar  for  his 
wife  Amytis,  the  daughter  of  Astyages,  who  retained 
a  yearning  for  the  mountains  and  forests  of  Media. 
Quintus  Curtius,  a  picturesque  though  careless  writer, 
assures  us  that  these  gardens  presented,  at  a  distance, 
the  appearance  of  a  forest  growing  on  its  native 
mountains.  The  eilect,  in  a  country  so  flat  as  Babylon, 
and  so  deficient  in  rich  scenery,  must  have  been 
magnificent.  '       ■  ''  - 

Although  these  hanging  gardens  are  not  mentioned 
in  Scripture,  there  is,  nevertheless,  pathetic  reference 
in  the  Psalms,  to  the  gardens  which  seem  to  have  lined 
the  banks  of  the  Euphrates.  Here  were  the  "willows" 
on  which  the  captive  children,  who  had  so  oft  forgotten 
their  God,  hut  who  clung  with  sad  remembrance  to 
their  Jerusalem,  "  hung  their  harps,"  and  to  which 
"  valley  of  willows"  the  captive  Moabitcs  were 
transported.  Tiie  language  of  the  Psalmist  would 
lead  us  to  believe  that,  besides  the  Euphrates,  Babylon 
was  irrigated  by  a  "onsiderable  number  of  streams  and 
rivulets,  which  probably  gave  an  additional  coolness 
and  beauty  to  the  open  courts  and  gardens,  that  filled 
the  open  squares  throughout  the  city. 

With  reason,  then,  might  the  inspired  prophets  vio 
with  each  other  in  eulogising  Babylon  as  "  the  great," 
"the  praise  of  the  whole  earth,"  "the  beauty  of  the 
Chaldee's  excellency."  With  reason  might  profane 
authors  revel  in  descriptions  of  its  might  and  its 
magnificence.      Yet   was    it    with   Babylon,    as   with 


) 


It  f 


t:if 


hii 


22 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


ancient  Rome.  It  fell  a  prey  to  the  foe,  when  its 
greatness  seemed  consummated.  The  glorious,  suc- 
cessful, and  luxurious  reign  of  Nebuchadnezzar  was 
the  hectic  flush,  the  dazzling  glare,  which  heralded  the 
decay  that  was  corroding  its  inward  frame ;  it  was  the 
blaze  of  the  fire  that  was  to  give  place  to  blackened 
ruins  and  smouldering  ashes.  -  nr  »*>,  « 

Vice,  dissipation,  and  extravagance  in  every  form, 
were  the  characterrstics  of  the  Babylonians  in  subse- 
quent times  ;  and  although  we  may  suppose  their 
degradation  to  have  been  arrested  during  the  life  of 
Nebuchadnezzar,  though  his  valour  and  determination 
may*  have  curbed  the  progress  of  evil,  yet  it  is  highly 
probable  that  the  progress  of  crime,  the  natural  conse- 
quence of  idolatry,  had  already  set  in,  and  was  rapidly 
doing  its  work.  Furthermore,  it  has  ever  been  the 
policy  of  conquerors  to  amuse  their  people,  rendered 
restless  by  a  previous  life  of  excitement  and  plunder, 
by  the  more  seductive,  but  less  revolutionary,  allure- 
ments of  pleasure  and  pageantry.  The  supposition 
that  some  such  motives  stimulated  the  conduct  of 
Nebuchadnezzar,  derives  additional  corroboration  from 
the  fact  that  the  population  brought  to  Babylon  -were 
a  mixed  people,  chiefly  composed  of  captives  of  all 
nations.  Among  such  a  people,  there  must  have  been 
certain  desperate  characters,  to  whom  the  smallest 
hope  of  success  would  have  acted  as  a  satisfactory 
reason  for  revolt ;  and  the  surest  -way  to  deaden  tlio 
sensibility  of  men  to  their  dependent  condition,  would 
be  to  make  that  condition  as  agreeable  as  possible, 
by  appealing  to  man's  worst  passions  and  strongest 
propensities.  ,  ,-:  ; 


li  I 


•••WMr,««»ati*M 


BABYLON. 


««r«» 


23 


But  the  king  himself  had  well  nigh  fallen  a  victim 
to  the  vanity,  "which  is  so  often  the  deadly  curse  of 
earthly  greatness.  Musing'  on  the  magnificence  ho 
had  reared  around  him,  pondering  on  the  multitudes 
that  bowed  to  him  as  lord  and  master,  and,  perhaps, 
in  the  same  benighted  spirit  as  David  of  old,  number- 
ing to  himself  the  amount  of  his  treasures,  the  king 
spake  and  said — "  Is  not  this  great  Babylon,  that  I 
have  built  for  the  house  of  the  kingdom,  by  the  might 
of  my  power,  and  for  the  honour  of  my  majesty  ?" 

Terrible  was  the  rebuke  which  fell  upon  the  ear  of  the 
terrified  king.  Scarcely  had  he  uttered  the  vaunting 
exclamation,  "  while  the  word  was  in  his  mouth,  there 
fell  a  voice  from  heaven,  saying,  0  king  Nebuchad- 
nezzar, to  thee  it  is  spoken  ;  the  kingdom  is  departed 
from  thee.  And  they  shall  drive  thee  from  men,  and 
thy  dwelling  shall  be  with  the  beasts  of  the  field  :  they 
shall  make  thee  to  eat  grass  as  oxen,  and  seven  times 
shall  pass  over  thee,  until  thou  know  that  the  Most 
High  rulclh  in  the  kingdom  of  men,  and  giveth  it  to 
whomsoever  he  will." 

Whether,  by  this  terrific  denunciation,'  Nebuchad- 
nezzar was  really  degraded  to  the  condition  threatened, 
or  whether  its  effect  was  to  impress  his  mind  with  a 
hypochondric  self-delusion,  under  which  he  seemed  to 
have  lost  the  attributes  of  rational  humanity,  must  not 
be  hastily  decided.  Morbid  melancholy  has  often 
accompanied  the  private  moments  of  the  greatest 
conquerors  and  the  sternest  politicians ;  and  minds 
the  most  energetic,  and  judgments  the  most  profound, 
have  been  made  the  toys  of  a  wandering  fancy, 
revelling  in  man's  power  of  self-deception.     But  the 


% 


GREAT  CITIES   6§  THE  WORLD. 


scripture  narrative  is  fearfully  distinct  in  its  narrative 
as  a  fact.  "The  same  hour  was  the  thing  fulfilled 
upon  Nebuchadnezzar ;  and  ho  was  driven  from  men, 
and  did  cat  grass  as  oxen,  and  his  body  was  wet  with 
the  dew  of  heaven,  till  hi-s  haiis  were  grown  like 
eagles'  feathers,  and  his  nails  like  birds'  claws." 
Besides,  the  moral  lesson  to  a  sinning  and  idolatrous 
nation  would  have  been  lost,  if  a  mere  seclusion-seeking 
monomania  or  lycanthropy  had  been  the  only  infliction. 
IIow  much  more  vividly  wouM  the  sensual  Babylonians 
liavo  been  impressed  with  God's  power,  more  terribly 
awed  by  its  effects,  if  they  beheld  him,  to  whom  they 
had  addressed  every  mark  of  oriental  adulation  and 
reverence,  grovelling  amidst  the  beasts  of  the  field, 
bereft  alike  of  the  power  of  the  king  and  the  dignity 
oifthe  man ! 

At  the  expiration  of  the  time  foretold,  Nebuchad- 
hczzar  awoke  to  a  consciousness  of  dawning  reason, 
and  with  a  gladdened  and  grateful  heart  broke  forth 
into  thanks  for  the  mercy  sliewn  by  Him,  "  whoso 
"Works  are  truth,  and  his  ways  judgment :  and  thoso 
that  walk  in  pride  he  is  able  to  abase." 

There  is  every  reason  to  suppose  that  this  fearful 
lesson  took  effect,  at  least  with  the  thinking  class  of 
men,  and  that  the  court  for  some  time  set  the  examplo 
of  the  worship  of  the  true  God.  But  this  repentance 
was  but  shortlived.  A  gigantic  image  was  erected  in 
the  plains  of  Dura,  and  the  whole  people  recalled  to 
the  practice  of  idolatry.  The  noble  resistance  of  the 
three  Jewish  captive?,  and  their  miraculous  deliverance 
from  the  flames  to  which  they  had  been  condemned, 
are  circumstances  too  well  known  to  need  recapitulation. 


.v».u 


BABYLON. 


to 


Modern  writers  seem  to  concur  in  placing  the  death 
of  Nebuchadnezzar  in  the  same  year  as  this  hist  defec- 
tion from  the  oft-offended  Almighty.  I  must,  however, 
express  my  opinion  that  Prideaux  is  more  correct  in 
f jllowing  the  simple  narrative  of  Daniel,  and  in  making 
the  death  of  Nebuchadnezzar  follow  his  restoration 
fiom  madness.  His  decease  is  generally  placed  about 
B.  C.  CG-2. 

"With  Nebuchadnezzar  the  glory  of  Babylon  departed. 
Ills  son  Evil-Merodach  was  a  vicious  and  profligate  prince, 
but  displayed  much  kindness  and  liberality  towards 
the  conquered  king  of  Judah,  Jehoiachin.  His  brief 
reign  of  two  years  was  only  distinguished  by  unbridled 
indulgence  of  evil  passions,  extravagance,  and  indolent 
mismanagement ;  and  a  conspiracy  of  his  own  relations 
involved  himself  and  his  luckless  favourite  in  untimely 
destruction. 

But  it  Avas  not  until  the  reign  of  Nebuchadnezzar's 
grandson,  Behshazzar,  that  Babylon  began  to  experienco 
the  sad  reverses  with  which  the  prophets  had  long 
since  threatened  her,  and  of  which  we  shall  muke  fuller 
mention  when  we  view  her  in  her  ruined  and  desolate 
condition.  Irreligion  and  immorality  had  increased 
tenfold ;  and  when  the  king,  in  a  moment  of  frenzied 
pride,  brought  out  the  sacred  vessels  of  the  tem])le  of 
the  Jews,  to  be  polluted  by  the  lips  of  idol-wor.shippcr.'i 
and  licentious  concubines,  the  miraculous  handwritino" 
on  the  wall  proclaimed  that  the  cup  of  wrath  was  filled 
up,  and  that  tho  days  of  the  wicked  prince  were 
numbered. 

There  is  little  doubt  that  the  death  of  Belshazzar 
followed  almost  immediately.  During  tho  time  that  had 

8 


26 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


elapsed  in  sending  for  the  wine  men,  and  subsequently 
for  Daniel,  to  interpret  the  mysterious  writing,  Cyrus 
had  entered  the  city,  and  penetrated  to  the  very 
interior  of  the  palace.  Belshazzar  had  held  out  against 
the  enemy,  and  had  retained  the  empire  for  seventeen 
years ;  but  this  was  to  be  attributed,  not  to  his  own 
bravery  or  wisdom,  but  to  the  able  conduct  of  the 
queen-mother,  Nitocris.  So  celebrated  was  this  woman 
for  her  energy  and  foresight,  that  "  Herodotus  speaks 
of  her  as  if  she  had  been  sovereign,  and  attributes  to 
her  all  those  works  about  Babylon,  which  other  authors 
ascribe  to  her  son."  The  great  lake,  however,  and 
the  canal,  which  this  queen  had  completed,  proved 
fatal  to  the  city  ;  foi  Cyrus,  having  drained  tho 
Euphrates  by  means  of  the  receptacle  thus  afforded 
for  the  superfluous  waters,  was  enabled  to  enter  Baby- 
lon. And  in  after-days,  by  the  breaking  down  of  the 
banks  at  the  head  of  the  canal,  tho  river  was  turned 
that  way  ;  and  as  no  care  had  been  taken  to  reduce  it 
to  its  former  channel  by  repairing  tho  breach,  all  tho 
country  on  that  side  was  overflown  and  inundated  by  it. 

The  plan  we  pursue  prevents  our  entering  into 
details  of  the  many  discrepancies  and  vaiiations  in  the 
accounts  of  the  taking  of  Babylon,  and  the  death  of 
Belshazzar.  But  there  is  one  grand  centre  where  all 
narratives  meet  in  wonderful  harmony,  in  the  fuHilment 
of  prophecy. 

Every  circumstance  of  the  ruin  of  this  "  hammer  of 
the  whole  earth,"  is  set  forth  in  a  minute  and  vivid 
portraiture  in  the  burdens  of  Isaiah  and  Jeremiah, 
Its  siege  by  an  army  of  Medes,  Elamites,  and  Arme- 
nians ;   the  seizure  of  the   fords   of  the   river ;    the 


"m 


,3p- 


.(i,:U' 


BABYLON. 


27 


confusion  tliat  prevailed  throughout  the  city,  and  the 
disheartening  fear  that  paralyzed  the  stoutest  hearts, 
are  all  detailed  as  though  passing  before  the  eyes  of 
the  inspired  heralds  of  the  divine  wrath.  Like  the 
Troy  of  the  poets,  it  was  to  be  taken  when  drunkenness 
and  riot  had  plunged  its  chieftains  into  that  sleep, 
from  which  they  were  to  awake  only  to  a  consciousness 
more  horrible  than  the  "bitterness  of  death"  through 
which  they  had  passed.  Nature  itself  seemed  to  be 
turned  from  her  wonted  course;  and  the  river,  which 
had  watered  the  gardens  of  her  glory,  was  to  retire 
from  its  proper  limits,  and  open  a  dry  pathway  for  the 
destroyer.  With  Babylon  it  was  to  be  as  when  God 
overthrew  Sodom  and  Gomorrah.  "  It  shall  never  be 
inhabited,  neither  shall  it  be  dwelt  in  from  generation 
to  generation  :  neither  shall  the  Arabian  pitch  tents 
there;  neither  shall  the  shepherds  make  their  fold 
there  :  but  wild  beasts  of  the  desert  shall  lie  there  ; 
and  their  houses  shall  be  full  of  doleful  creatures ;  and 
owls  shall  dwell  there,  and  satyrs  shall  dance  there.  And 
the  wild  beasts  of  the  islands  shall  cry  in  their  desolate 
houses,  and  dragons  in  their  pleasant  places,  and  her 
time  is  near  to  come,  and  hei  days  shall  not  be 
prolonged." 

Such  is  a  brief  sketch  of  Babylon  in  its  greatness ; 
such  were  the  vices  that  brought  about,  and  such  the 
predictions  that  announced,  its  ruin.  Like  Rome,  it 
fell  through  its  own  magnitude,  its  forgetfulness  of  the 
proper  nobility  of  man,  and  its  deadly  pride. 

No  longer  an  empire,  it  became  a  tributary  province 
of  the  new  power  of  the  Persians.  Unavailing  revolts 
against  the  Persian  yoke   brought  down  fresh  judg- 


28 


GREAT   CITIES    OF   THE    WORLD. 


tllll 


ments,  and  Cyrus,  Darius,  and  Xerxes  gradually 
stripped  it 'of  its  walls,  its  toAvers,  and  its  palaces. 
Alexander  took  it  from  the  Persians  and  entered  it  in 
triumph,  made  it  the  scene  of  luxurious  revels,  and 
the  metropolis  of  his  Eastern  emj)ire ;  but  could  not 
avert  its  predestined  downfall.  Strabo,  writing  in  tho 
reign  of  Augustus,  declares  that  Babylon  had  then 
become  so  desolate,  that  it  might  be  called  a  vast 
desert.  In  tho  time  of  Pausanias,  fragments  of  the 
walls  alone  bore  witness  of  its  former  existence  ;  and 
subsequently,  a  miserable  village  occupies  the  site  of 
this  proudest  city  of  the  earth. 

It  remains  for  us  to  give  some  idea  o?  l^abylon  in 
its  present  condition,  or  rather  to  notice  some  of  tho 
ruins  supposed  to  bear  witness  to  her  downfall. 

We  must  first,  however,  observe,  that  the  actual  site 
of  Babylon  is  very  uncertain,  and  that  there  is  con- 
siderable reason  to  believe  that  it  has  cliangcd  with 
the  fortunes  of  its  people.  To  /ustin  Henry  Layard, 
the  enthusiastic  and  enlightened  scholar,  and  his  well- 
directed  researches,  amidst  all  the  disadvantages 
opposed  by  a  tasteless  and  feeble-minded  government, 
we  owe  almost  all  our  real  knowledge  on  the  subject, 
and  for  his  descriptions  we  may  fairly  claim  a  hearing, 
before  we  notice  any  previous  descriptions. 

After  noticing  .the  variety  in  the  forms  of  cuneiform 
writing  found  in  the  various  ruins,  Layard  proceeds  as 
follows  : — "  The  inscriptions  in  the  Babylonian  charac- 
ter, from  the  ruins  near  Hillah,  can  be  shown  to  belong 
to  the  time  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  and  consequently  to  a 
period  subsequent  to  the  fall  of  the  Assyrian  Empire. 
The  name  of  that  monarch  is  found  upon  them  all. 


res 


rm 


a 


8- 


al 

til 


n^ 


Vfl 


BABYLON. 


♦» 


Amonr»At  tlie  ruins  of  Niffer,  to  the  south  of  Hillah» 
Mil  jor  Rawlinson  has  di.HCovorod  other  inscriptions  with 
a  new  royal  ikiuio  ;  but  it  is  uncertain  to  what  period 
thi'y  holon<^.  That  eminent  antiquary,  who  was,  I 
ht'lieve,  the  first  to  identify  the  name  of  Nebucliad- 
nezzar  on  the  bricks  and  tablets  from  the  ruins  so  long 
believed  to  bo  those  of  the  scriptural  Babylon,  inclines 
to  the  opinion  that  Niffer  may  represent  its  true  site, 
whilst  the  mounds  around  Hillah  arc  the  remains  of  a 
more  recent  city  of  the  same  name.  Nor  is  this 
supposition  of  the  existence  oi"  two  J3abylons  inconsis- 
tent with  history  and  Eastern  customs.  Nc))uchad- 
nezzar  declares  that  he  built  the  city.  After  the 
successful  revolt  of  the  Babylonians,  and  the  fall  of 
Nineveh,  it  is  not  improbable  that  Nebuchadnezzar, 
on  founding  a  new  empire,  which  was  to  rival  the 
Assyrian  in  power  and  extent,  should  have  desired  to 
build  a  capital  worthy  of  it.  During  the  Assyrian 
supremacy,  the  ancient  capital  of  the  Chaldeans  may 
have  partb'  fallen  into  ruins;  and  it  was  perfectly  in 
accordance  with  the  customs  and  prejudices  of  an 
Eastern  people  to  choose  for  rebuilding  it  a  new  site 
not  far  removed  from  the  old.  Babylon  aftbrds  more 
than  fnie  instance  of  this  very  custom.  The  successor 
of  Alexander  the  Great  in  tlie  empire  of  the  East, 
seeking  for  a  capital,  did  not  rebuild  Babylon,  which 
had  again  fallen  into  decay.  He  chose  a  site  near  it 
on  the  banks  of  the  Tigris,  founded  a  new  city,  calling 
it  Seleucia,  after  his  own  name,  and  pavtiy  constructing 
it  of  materials  taken  from  Babylon.  Subsequently, 
when  another  change  of  dynasty  took  place,  the  Par- 
thian succeeding  to  tho  Greek,  the  city  was  again 


GREAT    CITIES    OF    Tni;    WORLD. 


I  1 


removed,  and  Ctesiphon  rose  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  river.  After  the  Persians  came  the  Arabs,  who, 
desiring  to  found  a  capital  for  their  new  empire,  choso 
a  dift'orent  site  ;  still,  however,  remaining  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  old.  Changing  the  locality  more  than  once, 
they  at  length  huilt  the  celebrated  city  of  Baghdad, 
which  actually  represents  the  ancient  Babylon." 

The  words  of  Layard  cannot  fail  to  carry  authority 
with  them,  supported  as  they  are  by  the  constant  prac- 
tice of  eastern  nations.  But  till  more  is  known  of 
these  very  ruins — till  a  clearer  line  of  demarcation  can 
be  discovered  between  the  histories  of  these  neighbour- 
ing nations,  in  their  independent  or  their  tributary 
state,  wo  cannot  readily  depend  upon  analogy  as  our 
guide.  The  histories  of  Babylon  and  Nineveh  are  so 
curiously  interwoven  with  each  other  that  it  is  difficult 
to  say  where  the  one  ends  and  the  other  begins.  Fur- 
thermore, our  surveys  of  Babylon  are  far  less  perfect 
than  those  which  Botta  and  Layard  have  carried  out 
at  Khorsabad,  Mosul,  and  Nimroud.  Nothing  but  an 
equal  amount  of  investigation  can  justify  anything  liko 
a  parallel  view  of  their  history  and  antiquities.  With- 
out, therefore,  denying  the  truth  of  this  great  anti- 
quarian's statements,  we  will  content  ourselves  witli 
Rieli's  description  of  the  great  mounds  of  ruins  which 
occupy  the  surrounding  neighbourhood.  In  reading 
these  particulars,  I  would  wish  the  reader  to  observe 
three  things :  first,  that  whatever  doubts  may  exist 
ns  to  the  precise  era  of  the  buildings  whose  fragments 
are  thus  disentombed,  there  is  no  doubt  that  tho 
Babylon  of  the  Scriptures  is  to  be  sought  for  among 
them ;  secondly,  that  although  the  Birs  Nimroud  ba^ 


1 


w 


ca 


^4 


;'jS'WllSi";i 


.-r-.. 


RABYLOX. 


35 


even  l»y  recent  scholars,  hccn  rcgnrded  as  occupying 
the  Srile  of  tlic  ancient  temple  of  Bclus,  or  the  more 
ancient  tower  of  Babel,  Layard's  scepticism  on  the 
snhject  i^,  at  least,  entitled  to  investigation;  and, 
thirdlv,  tliat  the  remains  of  Avails  found  in  these  dis- 
tricts  '•  do  not  enclose  the  space  attributed  to  either 
Babylon  or  Kineveh,  but  form  quadrangular  enclosures 
of  nioie  moderate  dimensions,  which  appear  to  have 
been  attached  to  the  royal  dwellings,  or  were,  perhaps, 
intended  as  places  of  refuge  in  case  of  a  siege." 

Eich,  many  years  the  Resident  of  the  East  India 
Comjjany  at  Baghdad,  was  a  man  "  whose  enterprise, 
industry,  extensive  and  varied  learning,  and  rare 
influence  over  the  inhabitants  of  the  country,  acquired 
as  much  by  character  as  position,  eminently  qualified 
for  the  task."  We  may  add  that  a  deep  sense  of  the 
marvellous  operations  of  the  Almighty,  working  out 
his  judgments  in  accordance  with  his  forcwarnings, 
through  the  voices  of  prophets,  gives  a  weight  and 
solemnity  to  the  tone  of  llich's  speculations,  which 
cannot  too  much  excite  our  adiniration.  AVc  present 
our  readers  with  the  folloAving  extracts  : — 

"  The  ruins  of  Babylon  may  be  said,  almost  to  com- 
mence from' Mohawil,  a  .  jry  indifferent  khan,  close  to 
which  is  a  large  canal,  with  a  bridge  over  it;  the  whole 
country  between  it  and  Hillah  exhil)iting,  at  intervals, 
traces  of  building,  in  which  are  discoverable  burnt  and 
unburnt  bricks  and  bitumen.  Three  mounds,  in  parti- 
cular, attract  attention  from  their  magnitude.  The 
distrj  ^t  called  by  the  natives  El-Aredh  Babel  extends 
on  both  sides  of  the  Euphrates.  The  ruins  of  the 
eastern  quarter  of  Babylon,  commence  about  twu  miles 


86 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WOHT.I). 


above  Hillab,  and  consist  of  two  large  masses  or  mounds, 
connected  with,  and  lying  north  and  south  of  each  other; 
and  several  smaller  ones  which  cross  the  plain  at  dif- 
ferent intervals.  At  the  northern  termination  of  tho 
plain  is  Pietro  della  Valle's  ruin ;  from  the  south-east  (to 
which  it  evidently  once  joined,  being  only  obliterated 
there  by  tAvo  canals)  proceeds  a  narrow  ridge  or  mound 
of  earth,  Avearing  the  appearance  of  having  been  a  boun- 
dary wall.  This  ridge  forms  a  kind  of  circular  enclosure, 
and  joins  the  south-east  point  of  the  most  southerly 
of  the  two  grand  masses.  The  wdiole  area,  enclosed  by 
the  boundary  on  the  east  and  south,  and  the  river  on 
the  west,  is  two  miles  and  six  hundred  yards  from  east 
to  west — as  much  from  Pietro  della  Valle's  ruin  to  tho 
southern  part  of  the  boundary,  or  two  miles  and  one 
thousand  yards  to  the  most  southernly  mound  of  all. 
The  first  grand  mass  of  ruins  south,  is  one  thousand 
one  hundred  yards  in  length,  and  eight  hundred  in  the 
greatest  breadth.  The  most  elevated  part  may  be  about 
fifty  or  sixty  feet  above  the  level  of  the  plain ;  and  it 
has  been  dug  into  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  bricks. 
On  the  north,  is  a  valley  of  five  hundred  and  fifty  yards 
in  length,  the  area  of  which  is  covered  with  tussocks  of 
rank  grass,  and  crossed  by  a  line  of  ruins  of  very  little 
elevation.  To  this  succeeds  the  second  grand  heap  of 
ruins,  the  shape  of  which  is  nearly  a  square  of  seven 
hundred  yards  length  and  breadth.  This  is  the  place 
where  Beauchamp  had  previously  made  his  observa- 
tion ;  and  it  certainly  is  the  most  interesting  part  of 
the  ruins  of  Babylon.  Every  vestige  discoverable  in 
it  declares  it  to  have  been  composed  of  buildings  far 
superior  to  all  the  rest  which  have  left  traces  in  the 


BABYLON. 


37 


'3 


;ven 
ace 

rva- 
of 
in 
far 
the 


eastern  quarter :  the  bricks  are  of  the  finest  descrip- 
tion, and,  notwithstanding  this  is  the  grand  storehouse 
of  thein,  and  that  the  greatest  supphes  have  been,  and 
arc  now  constantly  drawn  from  it,  they  appear  still  to 
be  abundant.  In  all  these  excavations  walls  of  burnt 
brick,  laid  in  lime-mortar  of  a  very  good  quality,  are 
seen ;  and  in  addition  to  the  substances  generally  strewed 
on  the  surfaces  of  all  these  .iio'.nds,  we  here  find  frag- 
ments of  alabaster  vessels,  fine  earthenware,  marble, 
and  great  quantities  of  rarnished  tiles,  the  glazing  and 
colouring  of  which  are  surprisingly  fresh.  In  a  hollow, 
near  the  southern  part,  I  found  a  sepulchral  urn  of 
earthenware,  which  had  been  broken  in  digging,  and 
near  it  lay  son;e  human  bones,  which  pulverized  with 
the  touch. 

"  To  be  more  particular  in  my  description  of  this 
mound : — not  more  than  two  hundred  yards  from  its 
northern  extremity  is  a  ravine,  hollowed  out  by  those 
who  dig  for  bricks,  in  length  about  a  hundred  yards, 
and  thirty  feet  wide  by  forty  or  fifty  feet  deep.  On 
one  side  of  it,  a  few  yards  of  wall  remain  standing,  the 
face  of  which  is  very  clear  and  perfect,  and  it  appears 
to  have  been  the  front  of  some  building.  The  opposite 
side  is  so  confused  a  mass  of  rubbish,  that  it  should 
seem  the  ravine  had  been  worked  throu:?h  a  solid  build- 
ing.  Under  the  foundations  of  the  southern  end,  an 
opening  is  made,  which  discovers  a  subterranean  pass- 
age, floored  and  walled  with  large  bricks  laid  in  bitu- 
men, and  covered  over  with  pieces  of  sandstone  a  yard 
thick,  and  several  yards  long,  on  which  the  whole 
weight  rests,  being  so  great  as  to  have  given  a  consider- 
able degree  of  obliquity  to  the  side  walls  of  the  passage. 


88 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


It  is  half  full  of  brackish  water  (probably  rain-water 
impregnated  with  nitre  in  filtering  through  the  ruins, 
which  are  all  very  productive  of  it ;)  and  the  workmen 
say  that  some  way  on,  it  is  high  enough  for  a  horse- 
man to  pass  upright :  as  much  as  I  saw  of  it,  it  was 
near  seven  feet  in  height,  and  its  course  to  the  south. 
This  is  described  by  Beauchump,  who  most  unaccount- 
ably imagines  it  must  have  been  part  of  the  city  wall. 
The  supcr8tructure  over  the  passage  is  cemented  with 
bitumen ;  other  parts  of  the  ravine  are  cemented  with 
mortar,  and  the  bricks  have  all  writing  upon  them. 
The  northern  end  of  the  ravine  appears  to  have  been 
crossed  by  an  extremely  thick  wall  of  yellowish  brick, 
cemented  by  a  brilliant  white  mortar,  which  has  been 
broken  through  in  hollowing  it  out ;  and  a  little  to  the 
north  of  it,  I  discovered  what  Beauchamp  saw  imper- 
fectly, and  understood  from  the  natives  to  be  an  idol. 
I  was  told  the  same,  and  that  it  was  discovered  by  an 
old  Arab  in  digging ;  but  that,  not  knowing  Avliat  to  do 
with  it,  he  covered  it  up  again.  On  sending  for  the  old 
man,  I  set  a  number  of  men  to.  work,  who  after  a  day's 
hard  labour,  laid  open  enough  of  the  statue  to  show 
that  it  was  a  lion  of  colossal  dimensions,  standing  upon 
a  pedestal  of  a  coarse  kind  of  gray  granite,  and  of  rude 
workmanship ;  in  the  mouth  -".vas  a  circular  aperture, 
into  which  a  man  might  introduce  his  fist.  A  little  to 
the  west  of  the  ravine,  is  the  next  remarkable  ol)joct, 
called  by  the  natives  the  Kasr,  or  Palace,  by  which  a')- 
pellaiion  I  shall  designate  the  whole  mass.  It  is  a  very 
remarkable  ruin,  Avliich  being  uncovered,  and  in  part  de- 
tached from  the  rubbish,  is  visible  for  a  considorable  dis- 
tance, but  so  surprisingly  fresh  in  its  appearance,  th^t 


BABYLON. 


89 


it  was  only  after  a  rainuto  inspection,  that  I  was  satis- 
fied of  its  being  in  reality  a  Babylonian  remain.  It  con- 
sists of  several  walls  and  piers,  which  face  the  cardinal 
points,  eight  feet  in  thickness,  in  some  places  strength- 
ened by  pilasters  and  buttresses,  built  of  fine  burnt 
brick  still  perfectly  clean  and  sharp,  laid  in  lime  ce- 
ment of  such  a  tenacity,  that  those  whose  business  it 
is,  have  given  up  working,  on  account  of  the  extreme 
difficulty  of  extracting  them  whole.  The  tops  of  these 
walls  are  broken,  and  many  have  been  much  higher. 
On  tbe  outside  they  have  in  some  places  been  cleared 
nearly  to  the  foundations,  but  the  internal  spaces 
formed  by  them  are  yet  filled  with  rubbish ;  in  some 
parts  almost  to  their  summits.  One  part  of  the  walls 
has  been  split  into  three  parts,  and  overthrown  as  if  by 
an  earthquake  ;  some  detached  walls  of  the  same  kind, 
standing  at  different  distances,  show  what  remains  to 
have  been  only  a  small  part  of  the  original  fabric,  in- 
deed, it  appears  that  the  passage  in  the  ravine,  together 
witli  the  wall  which  crosses  its  upper  end,  was  con- 
nected with  it.  There  are  some  hollows  underneath, 
in  which  several  persons  have  lost  their  lives ;  so 
that  no  one  will  now  venture  into  them,  and  their  en- 
trances have  become  choked  up  with  rubbish.  Near 
this  ruin  is  a  heap  of  rubbish,  the  sides  of  which  are 
curiously  streaked  by  the  alternation  of  its  materials, 
the  chief  part  of  which,  it  is  probable,  was  unburnt 
iM-ick,  of  which  I  found  a  small  quantity  in  the  neighbor- 
hood ;  but  no  reeds  were  discoverable  in  the  inter- 
stices. There  are  two  paths  near  this  ruin,  made 
by  the  workmen  who  carry  down  their  bricks  to  the 
river  side,  whence  they  are  transported  by  boats  to  Hil- 


m 


GREAT  CITIES   OF  THE  WORLD. 


lah,  and  a  little  to  the  nurth-north-east  of  it  is  the 
famous  tree,  which  the  nativos  call  Athal&,  and  main- 
tain to  have  been  flourishing  in  ancient  Babylon,  from 
the  destruction  of  which  they  say  God  purposely  pre- 
served  it,  that  it  might  aiTord  Ali  a  convenient  place  to 
tie  up  his  horse  after  the  battle  of  Uillah  I  It  stands 
on  a  kind  of  lidgc,  and  nothing  more  than  one  side  of 
its  trunk  remains  (by  which  it  appears  to  have  beeen 
of  considerable  girth;)  yet  the  branches  at  the  top  are 
still  perfectly  verdant,  and  gently  waving  in  the  wind, 
produce  a  melancholy  rustling  sound.  It  is  an  ever- 
green, something  resembling  the  Ui/mun  vitcc,  and  of  a 
kind,  I  believe,  not  common  in  this  part  of  the  country, 
though  I  am  told  there  is  a  tree  of  the  same  dcbcrip- 
tion  at  Bassora.  All  the  peo})le  of  the  country  assert 
that  it  is  extremely  dangerous  to  approach  this  mound 
after  nightfall,  on  account  of  the  multitude  of  evil 
spirits  by  which  it  is  haunted. 

"  A  mile  to  the  noth  of  the  Kasr,  and  nine  hundred 
and  fifty  yards  from  the  river  bank,  is  the  las>t  ruin  of 
this  series,  described  by  Pictro  della  Valle.  The  natives 
call  it  Mukallibe  (or,  according  to  the  vulgar  Arab  pro- 
nunciation of  these  parts,  Mnjelibe,  meaning  '  over- 
turned.') It  is  of  an  oblong  shape,  irregular  in  its 
height,  and  the  measurement  of  its  sides,  which  face 
the  cardinal  points ;  the  northern  side  being  two  hun- 
dred yards  in  length,  the  southern  two  hundred  and 
nineteen ;  the  eastern  one  hundred  and  eighty-two, 
and  the  western  one  hundred  and  thirty-six  ;  the  eleva- 
tion of  the  south-east  or  highest  angle,  one  hundred  and  ^ 
forty-one  feet.  Near  the  summit  west,  appears  a  low 
Wall,  built  of  unburnt  bricks,  mixed  up  with  chopped 


R 


BABYLON. 


41 


straw  or  reeds,  an'l  cemented  with  clay  mortar  of  great 
thickness,  having  between  each  layer,  a  layer  of  reeds. 
All  are  worn  into  furrows  by  the  weather ;  in  some 
placed  of  great  depth.  The  summit  is  covered  with 
heaps  of  rubbish  ;  whole  bricks  with  inscriptions  on 
thorn  arc  here  and  there  discovered ;  the  whole  is 
covered  with  innumerable  iV:igmcnts  of  pottery,  brick, 
bitumen,  pebides,  vitrelied  brick,  or  scoria,  and  even 
jjhclis.  biis  of  glass  and  ninther-of-pearl.  There  are 
many  «iiiis  dl"  wild  beasts  in  various  parts,  in  one  of 
wl>ic!i  1  baind  the  bones  of  sheep,  and  other  animals, 
and  pcvccivcil  a  strong  smell  like  that  of  a  lion.  I  also 
fouTid  qu  lutitios  of  porcupine  quills,  and  in  most  cavi- 
ties are  numbers  of  bats  and  owls.  It  i.s  a.  cui'ious 
coincidence  that  I  here  first  heard  the  oriental  account 
of  satyrs.  I  had  always  imagined  the  belief  of  their 
existence  was  coniined  to  the  west;  but  a  Choader  who 
was  with  me  wlien  I  examined  this  rnin,  mentioned  by 
a(;cideni,  that  in  this  desert  an  animal  is  foun<l  resem- 
bling: a  man  from  the  head  to  the  waist,  but  havinfj  the 
thighs  and  legs  of  a  slieep  or  goat;  he  said  also,  that 
the  Aral)S  hunt  it  with  dogs,  and  eat  the  lower  parts, 
abstaining  from  the  upper,  on  account  of  their  resem- 
blance to  those  of  the  luunan  species.  'But  the  wild 
beast  of  the  desert  shall  be  th«re,  and  tlieir  houses  shall 
be  full  of  doleful  creatures;  and  owls  sluill  dwell  there, 
and  satvrs  shall  dance  there.'   Isa.  xiii.  21.'' 

We  must  now  bid  farewell  to  tl;e  ruins  of  Babylon, 
lamenting  that  our  historical  information  respecting  tho 
days  of  her  greatness  is  so  limited.  But,  varying  as  are 
the  narratives  that  set  forth  the  valiant  deeds  and  ma'^' 
nifieent    works   of  the  Titan-like  race  of  Nimrod,  tho 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD 


curse  of  idolatry  imprints  its  iron  footsteps  on  every 
spot  that  bears  witness  to  their  efforts.  Sabaisur  had 
perverted  their  minds,  vanity  and  cruelty  had  com- 
pleted the  work  that  an  idolatrous  casting  off  of  God 
had  begun  ;  and  in  the  doubtful  obscurity  which  shrouds 
the  remains  of  this  doomed  city,  we  read  a  gloomy  sa- 
tire on  the  helplessness  of  Man  when  he  has  forgotten 
his  Maker. 


ARAB  ENCAMPMENT, 


m' 


BUD  OF  A  COLOSSAL  FIOUIU:  OF  AN  A8STBIAN  £CNUCH. 


NINEVEH. 


EFORE  I  present  my  reader 
with  a  sketch  of  the  great 
discoveries  which  have  al- 
ready associated  the  name 
of  Layard  with  these  pages, 
I  shall  first  call  attention 
to  the  scriptural  notices 
whence  our  earliest  know- 
ledge of  Nineveh  is  derived. 
ISiiius,  the  first  king  of  Nineveh,  is  repeatedly  con- 
founded by  pagan  historians  with  Nimrod,  and  even 
with  Noah  himself.  It  is  possible  that  the  hypothesis 
which  makes  Nimrod  the  founder,  treasured  as  it  is,  in 
the  superstitious  remembrance  of  the  Arabs  to  this 

(43) 


44  OKEAT   CITIKS    OF   THE    WOULD. 

day,  is  of  the  same  probability  as  that  which  assigns 
tho  foundation  of  JJabylon  to  ]Jchis ;  while  Ninus 
appears  in  the  same  light  as  Nebuchadnezzar,  as  tho 
I)rince  to  whom  tho  primitive  city  owed  its  chief  power 
and  miignificence.  As  Babylon  was  the  capital  of  tlie 
Chaldean,  so  was  Nineveh  of  the  Assyrian  empire. 
And  as  Nineveh  rivalled  IJaliylon  in  splendour  and 
renown,  so  did  it  vie  with  it  in  wickedness,  emulate  its 
conteni{)t  of  God,  provoke  the  same  fearful  judgment, 
and  leave  its  buried  ruins  as  memorials  of  its  crime  and 
punishment. 

As  I  write  tho  history  of  Nineveh  as  a  city,  and  not 
in  its  relation  to  the  Assyrian  empire,  I  may  bo 
excused  entering  into  tho  chronological  difliculties  with 
which,  like  that  of  the  other  half  mythical  founders  of 
great  cities,  the  history  of  Ninus  is  beset.*  At  whatever 
era  we  fix  his  reign,  and  whether  wo  regard  him  as 
founder  of  a  new,  or  establishcr  of  an  old  empire,  we 
recognise  in  the  eflfects  of  his  influence  the  same  stern 
despotism,  the  same  lust  after  conquest,  and  the  same 
uncontrollable  determination,  which  is  the  invariable 
characteristic  of  those  who  work  great  changes  in  the 
history  of  man. 

Of  the  kings  who  succeeded  him  in  tho  Assyrian 
empire  we  know  little,  as  far  as  Nineveh  is  concerned. 

•  The  following  dates,  however,  given  by  Clinton,  and  adopted  by 
Lnyard,  p.  217,  will  doubtless  bo  useful  to  the  reader: — 

YEARS       n.  0. 

Ninus 21 82 

Assyrian  Monarchy  1306  years  before  the  Empire  .     .     .  C7o  ...  1912 

Durin<?  the  Empire,  24  kings 526  ...  1237 

(Sardannpalus,  b.  c.  87C.) 
After  the  Empire,  6  kings 105  ...    711 

1306 
Capture  of  Nineveh 606 


MNKvnn. 


45 


Bat  tlie  works  whicli  rccont  discoveries  have  brought 
\o  li^'lit,  arc  suflicicnt  to  show  that  the  improvement 
and  iucreiise  of  Niuevitc  <5r('atness  was  hrouglit  about 
by  diilcrent  Hovereijj^ns  at  periods  more  or  loss  distant.* 
In  the  time  of  tho  propliet  Jonah,  it  had  attained  n, 
magnitude  which  is  aptly  illustrated  by  tho  quaint 
description  of  tho  prophet :  "  Now  Nineveh  was  an 
exceeding  great  city  of  three  days'  journey.  And 
Jonah  began  to  enter  into  the  city  a  day's  journey." 
Its  dimensions  according  to  pagan  authority,  were  a 
hundred  and  fifty  furlongs  on  tho  two  longest  sides,  and 
ninety  on  the  opposite,  tho  square  being  four  hundred 
and  eighty  furlongs,  or  sixty  miles.  In  respect  to  its 
population,  the  language  in  Scripture  leaves  us  in  doubt 
although  the  "more  than  six  score  thousand  persons 
that  could  not  discern  between  their  right  hand  and  their 
left  hand,"  seem  most  naturally  to  refiT  to  the  chd- 
dren  only,t  presupposing,  according  to  a  common  calcu- 
lation, an  average  population  of  six  hundred  thousand 
inhabitants.  It  must  however,  be  recollected  tinit  tho 
dimensions  of  an  eastern  city  are  by  no  means  a  guide 
to  determining  the  amount  of  its  population.  Largo 
open  spaces,  pleasure  grounds,  and  gardens,  are  con- 
stantly found  within  the  walls,  while  the  seclusion  in 


*  See  Layard,  v.  ii.  p.  226,  and  elsewhere.  Ho  considers  that  tlioro 
were  at  least  two  distinct  Assyrian  dynasties  :  "  the  first  cutnnienciii;^  nilli 
Ninus,  and  ending  with  the  Sardunupalus  of  History,  and  the  socoml, 
including  the  later  kings  mentioned  in  Scripture,  up  to  the  deatruction  of 
Nineveh  by  the  combined  armies  of  Persia  and  Babylon." 

I  This  is  somewhat  confirmed  by  the  addition  of  "and  munh  cnttle," 
for  the  children,  wives,  cattle,  and  goods,  are  commonly  reckoned  together, 
in  Buoh  enumerations,  independently  of  tho  men.  Thus  in  Ca>s.  B.  G.  i.  2, 
"  civitati  persuaiis,  at  de  finibus  aula  cum  omnibus  copiis  (^av^T/iti,  a&  in 
h»iA.  xUL  10}  AXirflDt." 


46 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


which  the  female  sex  are  kept,  renders  a  separate 
dwelling  necessary  for  each  family. 

This  "great  city,"  as  it  is  repeatedly  styled  by  the 
prophet,  had  in  his  days  risen  to  a  pitch  of  luxury  and 
wickedness,  which  had  "  come  up  before  God."  But 
the  mercy  shewn  in  the  sending  of  Jonah,  and  the 
ready  reception  with  which  that  prophet  met,  are  facts 
that  seem  to  prove  a  greater  predisposition  to  repent- 
ance, and  a  less  hardened  proneness  to  idolatry,  than 
the  haughty  Babylonians  had  displayed.  A  solemn  fast 
was  proclaimed,  and  the  humbled  Ninevites  sought  their 
peace  with  God — prostrate  in  sackcloth  and  ashes. 
"And  God  saw  their  works  that  they  turned  from  their 
evil  way ;  and  God  repented  of  the  evil  that  he  had 
said  that  he  would  do  unto  them  ;  and  he  did  it  not." 

But,  although  the  Divine  vengeance  was  delayed, 
and  although  the  people  for  a  time  hearkened  to  the 
prophet  who  had  been  sent  to  awaken  them  from  their 
slumber  of  sinfulness,  the  besetting  sin  of  idolatry,  with 
its  accompanying  host  of  evil  pleasures,  licentiousness, 
and  contempt  of  the  true  God,  again  gained  ground. 
To  what  extent  their  first  defeat  under  Arbaces  and 
Belesis  may  have  humbled  their  haughtiness,  we  cannot 
tell.  But  that  the  second  siege  under  Cyaxares,  king 
of  Persia  and  Media,  and  Nabopolassar,  king  of  Baby- 
lon, proved  the  decisive  blow  to  all  their  greatness,  is 
the  concurrent  statement  of  history.  So  decisive  was 
the  ruin,  that  "  although  the  earlier  prophets  fre- 
quently allude  to  the  great  city,  and  to  its  wealth  and 
power  before  its  fall,  the  latter  never  mention  its  name, 
except  in  allusion  to  the  heap  of  ruins — to  the  desolation 


NINEVEH. 


47 


which  was  spread  over  the  site  of  a  once  great  city,  as 
a  special  instance  of  the  Divine  vengeance." 

When  Xenophon,  about  400  B.  c,  passed  by  the  spot 
in  his  retreat  with  the  ten  thousand  Greeks,  so  utterly 
ruined  was  Nineveh,  that  he  knew  not  that  the  mounds 
of  earth  and  rubbish  he  saw  and  described  covered  the 
once-renowned  city ;  and  his  predecessor,  Herodotus, 
knew  as  little  of  the  existence  even  of  its  ruins.  At  a 
later  period,  the  witty  Lucian  bears  witness  to  the 
absence  of  any  vestiges  of  the  doomed  city. 

To  give  any  idea  of  the  wealth  and  power  which  tlio 
Ninevites  must  have  possessed,  I  must  refer  my  readers 
to  the  sculptures,  which  the  untired,  though  ill-sup- 
ported zeal  of  Layard  has  brought  to  light.  In  these 
the  habits,  arts  and  sciences,  costumes,  and  life  of  the 
Ninevites,  whether  in  peace  or  in  war,  stand  vividly 
before  us.  Rough  and  primitive  as  is  the  school  of  art 
to  which  they  belong,  they  carry  the  unquestionable 
marks  of  a  high  progress  of  civilization,  and  a  know- 
ledge not  only  of  the  necessary  arts  of  life,  but  of  its 
refinements  and  cultivation.  The  luxuriant  costumes, 
the  proud  processions,  the  ceremonious  cortege  of  the 
eastern  monarchs,  all  find  their  place  in  the  sculptures 
of  Nimroud.  By  their  colossal  dimensions  we  are 
enabled  to  estimate  the  length  of  the  halls  and  galleries 
whose  walls  they  lined.  The  immense  winged  bulls 
and  lions  with  their  human  visages,  resembling  the 
anomalous  figures  discovered  at  Persepolis,  or  the 
cherubim  forms  pictured  in  the  extatic  visions  of  Eze- 
kiel  formed  the  stately  entrances  to  the  apartments, 
and  aptly  symbolized  the  might  of  the  monarchs  who 
passed  and  repassed,  day  after  day,  with  all  th«  para- 


1   I 


V 


GREAT  CITIKR  OF  THE  WORLD. 


WINUED  LION  FBOU  THE  RUI.N8  OP  NIXEV£U. 


i 


phernalia  of  oriental  splendour.  Vast  sphinxes,  as  in 
the  temples,  and  along  the  colonnades  of  Egypt,  and 
hawk-headed  human  figures,  served  to  typify  the  supre- 
macy of  royalty,  and  added  a  grotesque  variety  to  the 
solemn  stateliness  of  the  other  groups.  GroAvds  of 
smooth-chinned  eunuchs,  of  servants  laden  with  daintir?', 
or  with  the  spoils  of  the  vanrpiished,  linnting-partira 
fully  equipped,  the  chirftain,  with  full-driiwn  Imiw, 
hurrying  along  in  his  chariot  to  the  scene  of  war,  or 
followed  hy  a  train  of  captives ;  these  were  the  suhjects 
which  adorned  the  alabaster-lined  walls  of  the  palaces 
at  Nineveh.  Nor  were  the  charms  of  painting  and 
gilding  wanting.  The  images  "portrayed  with  Vermil- 
lion" "exceeding  in  dyed  attire  upon  their  heads,"  are 
recalled  to  our  minds  by  the  traces  of  colour  every- 
where visible  on  these  sculptures. 


V 


'Y- 


•••-■t' 


NINEVEH. 


61 


Among  the  many  details  of  the  ordinary  matters  of 
common  life  with  which  these  fragments  have  made  us 
acquainted,  we  find  representations  of  the  pulley, 
arranged  in  the  same  manner  as  our  own,  and  the  ope- 
ration of  moving  a  block  of  stone  on  a  cart  drawn  by 
men.  The  beautifully  flowing  robes,  edged  with  fringes 
and  tassels,  and  elaborately  embroidered,  confirm  our 
ideas  of  the  proverbial  magnificence  of  the  "  Assyrian 
garments,"  and  prove  that  the  Ninevites  rivalled  their 
neighbours  in  taste  for  dress,  both  in  the  costliness  of 
the  materials,  and  the  delicacy  of  the  workmanship. 
Necklaces,  armlets,  bracelets,  and  ear-rings  of  various 
design,  are  profusely  displayed,  and  even  the  arms  are 
richly  decorated.  The  umbrella  or  parasol,  and  the 
chair  of  state,  the  usual  accompaniments  of  oriental 
royalty,  both  closely  resemble  those  of  modern  times. 
The  minute  and  neat  trimming  and  arrangement  of 
beard,  and  the  dyed  eyebrows,  bear  witness  to  the 
voluptuous  indolence  and  personal  vanity  of  this  people 
in  their  moments  of  relaxation ;  while  the  accurate 
details  of  armour,  and  of  the  operations  of  warfare, 
present  a  life-like  picture  of  the  bravery  and  rough 
energy  which  had  raised  them  to  the  greatess  they  so 
ill  knew  how  to  preserve. 

I  cannot  better  close  this  description  of  Nineveh  in 
its  greatness,  than  by  a  quotation  from  Ln  yard's  pic- 
turesque recapitulation  of  the  disinterred  remains. 

"  We  descend  into  the  principal  trench,  by  a  flight 
of  steps  rudely  cut  into  the  earth,  near  the  western  face 
of  the  mound,  and  at  a  depth  of  about  twenty  feet,  we 
suddenly  find  ourselves  between  a  pair  of  colossal  lions, 
winged  and  human-headed,  forming  a  portal.     Before 


V 


62 


GREAT   CITIES    OF   THE    WORLD. 


these  wonderful  forms,  Ezekiel,  Jonah,  and  others  of 
the  prophets  stood,  and  Sennacherib  bowed ;  even  the 
patriarch  Abraham  himself  may  possibly  have  bowed. 

"  Leaving  behind  us  a  small  chamber,  in  which  the 
sculptures  are  distinguished  by  a  want  of  finish  in  tho 
execution ;  and  considerable  rudeness  in  the  design  of 
the  ornaments,  we  issue  from  between  the  winged  lions, 
and  enter  the  remnants  of  the  principal  hall.  On  both 
sides  of  us  are  sculptured  gigantic  winged  figures ;  some 
with  the  heads  of  eagles,  others  entirely  human,  and 
carrying  mysterious  symbols  in  their  hands.  To  the 
left  is  an9ther  portal,  also  formed  by  winged  lions. 
One  of  them  has,  however,  fallen  across  the  entrance, 
and  there  is  just  room  to  creep  beneath  it.  Beyond 
this  portal  is  a  winged  figure,  and  two  slabs  with  bas- 
reliefs  ;  but  they  have  been  so  much  injured,  that  we 
can  scarcely  trace  the  subject  upon  them.  Further  on, 
there  are  no  traces  of  wall,  although  a  deep  trench  has 
been  opened.  The  opposite  side  of  the  hall  has  also 
disappeared,  and  we  only  see  a  high  wall  of  earth.  On 
examining  it  attentively,  we  can  detect  the  marks  of 
masonry;  and  we  soon  find  that  it  is  a  solid  structure, 
built  of  bricks  of  unbaked  clay,  now  of  the  same  colour 
as  the  surrounding  soil,  and  scarcely  to  be  distinguished 
from  it. 

"The  slabs  of  alabaster,  fa"-"  from  their  original 
position,  have,  however,  been  raised ;  and  we  tread  in 
the  midst  of  a  maze  of  small  bas-reliefs,  representing 
chariots,  horsemen,  battles,  and  sieges.  Perhaps  the 
workmen  are  about  to  raise  a  slab  for  the  first  time ;  '^ 
and  we  watch  with  eager  curiosity  what  new  event  of 


\    1 


NINEVEH. 


68 


Assyrian  history,  or  Avhat  unknown  custom  or  religioas 
ceremony,  may  be  illustrated  l»y  the  sculpture  beneath. 

"  Having  walked  about  one  hundred  feet  amongst 
these  scattered  monuments  of  ancient  history  and  art, 
we  reach  another  doorway  formed  by  gigantic  winged 
bulls  in  yellow  limestone.  One  is  still  entire,  but  its 
companion  is  fallen,  and  is  broken  into  several  pieces — 
the  great  human  head  is  at  our  feet. 

"  We  pass  on  without  turning  into  the  part  of  the 
biiilding  to  which  this  portal  leads.  Beyond  it  we  see 
another  winged  figure,  holding  a  graceful  flower  in  its 
hand,  and  apparently  presenting  it  as  an  offering  to  the 
winged  bull.  Adjoining  this  sculpture  we  find  eight 
fine  bas-reliefs.  There  is  the  king,  hunting  and  tri- 
umphing over  the  lion  and  the  wild  bull ;  and  the  siege 
of  the  castle,  with  the  battering  ram.  We  have  now 
reached  the  end  of  the  hall,  and  find  before  us  an  ela- 
borate and  beautiful  sculpture,  representing  two  kings, 
standing  beneath  the  emblem  of  the  supreme  deity,  and 
attended  by  winged  figures.  Between  them  is  the 
sacred  tree.  In  front  of  this  bas-relief  is  the  great 
stone  platform,  upon  which,  in  days  of  old,  may  have 
been  placed  the  thrones  of  the  Assyrian  monarch,  when 
he  received  his  captive  enemies,  or  his  courtiers. 

"  To  the  left  of  us  is  a  fourth  outlet  from  the  hall, 
formed  by  another  pair  of  lions.  We  issue  from  be- 
tween them,  and  find  ourselves  on  the  edge  of  a  deep 
ravine,  to  the  north  of  which  rises,  high  above  us,  the 
lofty  pyramid.  Figures  of  captives  bearing  objects  of 
tribute ;  ear-rings,  bracelets,  and  monkeys,  may  be 
Been  on  walls  near  this  ravine  ;  and  two  enormous  bulls, 

6* 


Vi. 


«l 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


and  two  winged  figures  above  fourteen  feet  high,  are 
lying  on  its  very  edge. 

"As  the  ravine  bounds  the  ruins  on  this  side,  we 
must  return  to  the  yellow  bulls.  Passing  through  the 
entrance  formed  by  them,  we  enter  a  large  chamber 
surrounded  by  eagle-headed  figures :  at  one  end  of  it  is 
a  doorway,  guarded  by  two  priests  or  divinities,  and  in 
the  centre  another  portal  with  winged  bulls.  Which- 
ever way  we  turn,  we  find  ourselves  in  the  midst  of  a 
nest  of  rooms ;  and  without  an  acquaintance  with  the 
intricacies  of  the  place,  we  should  soon  lose  ourselves  in 
this  labyrinth.  The  accumulated  rubbish  being  gene- 
rally left  in  the  centre  of  the  chambers,  the  whole  exca- 
vation consists  of  a  number  of  narrow  passages,  panel- 
led on  one  side  with  slabs  of  alabaster ;  and  shut  in  on 
the  other  by  a  high  wall  of  earth,  half-buried  in  which 
may  here  and  there  be  seen  a  broken  vase,  or  a  brick 
painted  with  brilliant  colours.  We  may  wander  through 
these  galleries  for  an  hour  or  two,  examining  the  mar- 
vellous sculptures,  or  the  numerous  inscriptions  that 
surround  «s.  Here,  we  meet  long  roAvs  of  kings,  at- 
tended by  their  eunuchs  and  priests ;  there,  lines  of 
winged  figures,  carrying  fir-cones  and  religious  emblems, 
and  seemingly  in  adoration  before  the  mystic  tree. 
Other  entrances,  formed  by  winged  lions  and  bulls, 
lead  us  into  new  chambers.  In  every  one  of  them  aro 
fresh  olrjects  of  curiosity  and  surprise.  At  length, 
wearied,  we  issued  from  the  buried  edifice  by  a  trench 
on  the  opposite  side  to  that  by  which  we  entered,  and 
find  ourselves  again  upon  the  naked  platform.  Wo 
look  around  in  vain  for  any  traces  of  the  wonderful 
remains  wc  have  just  seen,  and  are  half  inclined  to 


V  1. 


NINEVEH.  ii 

believe  that  we  have  dreamed  a  dream,  or  have  listened 
to  some  tale  of  Eastern  romance." 

The  present  condition  cf  Nineveh  is  a  marvellous 
Illustration  of  the  fulfilment  of  prophecy.  Shapeless 
mounds,  defying,  by  their  want  of  anything  like  a 
definite  form,  the  description  of  the  traveller,  cover  the 
ruins  of  those  vast  palaces,  in  which  the  Assyrian 
monarchs  once  revelled  in  the  luxurious  impiety  of 
oriental  despotism.  But  whilst  we  read  the  narratives 
which  research  developes  from  an  almost  unknown 
character — whilst  we  contemplate  the  disentombed 
sculptures  which  seem  to  rise  up  as  mute  apparitions 
of  the  past,  we  are  deeply  impressed  with  the  sad  con- 
viction, that  *^  now  is  Nineveh  a  desolation,  and  dry 
like  a  wilderness ;  and  flocks  lie  down  in  the  midst  of 
her ;  all  the  beasts  of  the  nations,  both  the  cormorant 
and  the  bittern  lodge  in  the  upper  lintels  of  it ;  their 
voice  rings  in  the  windows,  and  desolation  is  in  the 
threshold." 


i.t.f.. 


(.■& 


^Ja:- 


•*k 


♦'»>'  ■■•»      I*.*  V  - 


THEBES. 


..  '*    ,  !h  ,~! 


'HE  sublime  greatness  of  the  dimensions, 
and  the  elaborate  magnificence  of  the 
dccoratior.s,  which  to  this  day  render 
ancient  Thebes  the  admiration  of  tra- 
vellers, siilficiently  attest  its  claims  to 
be  regarded  as  the  centre  and  mother 
city  of  the  once-glorious  kingdom  of 
Egypt,  \7hatever  may  have  been  the 
magnificence  of  the  temples  at  Nine- 
veh, their  diminsions,  as  far  as  we  can  at  present  ascer- 
tain, fell  far  short  of  the  gigantic  structures  at  Luxor 
or  Karnak.  Moreover,  the  ruins  of  Thebes  tell  us 
more  of  real  history,  and  their  language  is  as  yet  better 
understood.  -,.;.-.  ->v    >     r   v. 

Manetho,  a  writer  who  has  preserved  to  us  a  curious 
mixture  of  truth  and  falsehood,  ha?  furnished  U3  with 
(56) 


It 


THEUE8. 


59 


tlio  names  of  the  cities  in  which  the  kings  who  preceded 
Sesostris  reigned.  These  are  Elephantine,  Thebes,  or 
the  great  Diospolis,  (this  afterwards  called  Abydos,) 
Ileracleopolis,  and  Memphis.  But  amid  the  uncertain 
trudition.s  which  hover  over  the  ruins  of  Egyptian  great. 
ness,  it  is,  perhaps,  better  to  seek  for  some  stand-point 
of  at  least  probably  ascertained  history,  than  to 
entangle  ourselves  in  inextricable  researches  after  a 
mythical  founder ;  and  we  shall,  therefore,  be^in  our 
historical  notices  of  Thebes  with  Sesostris. 

Like  Semiramis,  Theseus,  and  the  -itill  le-^^  historic 
Hercules,  Sesostris  has  formed  a  favourite  hero  ir». 
whom  fiction  and  history  should  join  issue.  Wh  'e  it 
seems  absurd  to  deny  his  personal  realit; ,  "".hile  we 
have  ample  reason  and  authority  for  identifying  him 
with  llames^s  the  Great,  whoso  name  appears  conspi- 
cuously on  the  mighty  structures  of  Luxor  and  Karnak, 
we  cannot  but  feel  assured  that  much  exaggeration, 
much  romance,  has  been  blended  with  thu  narrative 
which  details  the  adventures  of  this  great  conqueror. 
The  advancement  of  the  arts  of  life,  forms,  as  usual, 
the  conclusion  of  his  earth's  nnssiou,  and  Sesostris, 
having  returned  as  the  haughty  victoj-  over  vast  territo- 
ries, leaving  everywhere  the  moi  i^^.cnt.s  of  his  all  sub- 
duing perseverance,  probably  employod  the  captives 
who  swelled  his  train  in  wo'ks  of  ))ublic  utility  and 
magnificence.  If  we  bear  in  min<l.  the  bondage  of  the 
Israelites  "in  brick  and  in  uiort:rr,"  wo  can  have  little 
doubt  that  the  same  policy  which  led  Ncbucluidnezzar 
to  transport  large  numbers  of  captives  to  the  rising 
Babylon,  also  influenced  the  crafty  and  calculating 
Sesostris;  and  many  of  the  structures  which  now  awo 


60 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


US  bjr  their  wondrous  proportions,  and  conjure  up 
visions  of  a  city  of  Giants,  owed  their  existence  to  the 
wear  and  tear  of  human  life,  recklessly  spent  by  the 
conqueror  who  employed  the  vanquished  in  rearing 
monuments  to  attest  their  own  downfall. 

Herodotus  assigns  to  Sesostris  the  systematic  and 
equal  division  of  the  Egyptian  territory,  and  a  system 
of  taxation  which  considerately  made  allowance  for  the 
occasional  encroachments  of  the  Nile,  and  the  conse- 
quent injury  or  decrease  to  which  private  estates  were 
liable,  as  well  as  the  formation  of  canals  throughout 
the  country,  and  lofty  mounds  or  dykes  to  prevent 
damage  to  the  cities  during  the  annual  rising  of  the 
river.  While  such  a  statement  is  perfectly  agreeable 
to  the  character  of  Sesostris,  and  the  exigencies  of  his 
territory,  they  still  present  a  blending  of  the  character 
of  a  Numa  with  that  of  a  Napoleon,  a  consideration  for 
private  rights,  strangely  united  with  an  eagerness  for 
acquisition,  which  perhaps  distinguishes  Sesostris,  even 
in  our  imperfect  conception  of  his  character  and  motives, 
from  the  other  half-romantic  conquerors  of  the  humcin 
race. 

Chronologists  are  tolerably  agreed  in  fixing  the  epoch 
of  Sesostris  to  about  1500  B.  c,  upwards  of  a  century 
earlier  than  the  date  assigned  him  by  Herodotus.  To 
this  glorious  period,  it  is  probable  that  the  noblest 
works  of  EiQjyptian  art,  the  temples,  the  statues,  the 
obelisks  of  Thebes  belong,  and  that  the  "  hundred- 
gated"  city  existed  in  the  fulness  of  its  might  and 
splendour,  from  about  1600  b.  c.  till  the  Ethiopian 
invasion  of  Sabaco,  about  800  B.  c. 

It  is  during  li.::^  {.ciiod,  then,  that  we  must  contem- 


TUEBEd. 


flP 


plate  Thebes  in  its  magnificence.  So  rich  are  we  in 
the  representations  of  Egyptian  greatness  which  abound 
in  this  district,  that  vast  volumes  have  been  filled  with 
the  bare  outlines  of  gigantic  ruins  and  whole  folios 
dedicated  to  the  equally  sketchy  details  of  a  single 
temple. 

M'ldei'n  travellers,  of  a  very  recent  date,  agree  in 
describing  the  distant  prospect  of  the  ruins  of  Thebes 
as  poor  and  ineff*ecfcive ;  nay,  even  when  comparatively 
near,  they  furnish  no  adequate  idea  of  the  gloomy 
sublimity  which  breaks  upon  the  view  as  we  approach 
the  propylon  of  the  temple  of  Luxor.  This  magnifi- 
cent gateway,  composed  of  two  pyramidal  propylaea, 
is  two  hundred  feet  in  width,  and  fifty-seven  feet  above 
the  present  level  of  the  soil.  In  front  stood  two  obe- 
lisks, in  red  granite,  each  eighty  feet  in  height,  and 
from  eight  to  nine  feet  wide  at  the  base.  Between 
these  obelisks  and  the  propylon  are  two  colossal  statues, 
also  of  red  granite,  and,  although  buried  in  the  ground 
up  to  the  chest,  measuring  twenty-one  and  twenty-two 
feet  to  the  top  of  the  mitre.  From  some  difi"erence  in 
the  costume,  it  is  supposed  that  one  represented  a  male, 
the  other  a  female  figure. 

Through  the  propylon,  we  pass  into  a  court  about 
232  feet  long,  by  174,  round  which  are  remains  of  a 
double  row  of  columns  in  various  stages  of  decay. 
This  court  is  full  of  earth  and  rubbish,  chiefly  owing  to 
its  present  inhabitants,  the  Arabs,  having  placed  part 
of  their  village  within  the  enclosure.  Passing  through 
other  pyramidal  propyltva,  we  come  to  a  double  row  of 
seven  columns,  11^  feet  in  diameter.  Here  the  axis  of 
the  temple  slightly  changes ;  and  we  meet  with  a  fur- 

G 


m 


62 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


ther  change  of  the  line,  on  entering  the  portico,  which 
is  composed  of  thirty-two  pillars  arranged  in  parallel 
rows.  From  this  irregularity  it  has  been  inferred,  with 
some  probability,  that  the  whole  structure  was  not 
raised  at  once,  but  v:as  the  work  of  successive  ages. 
It  has  been,  however,  also  supposed  that  the  reason  for 
this  irregularity  was,  that  the  northern  front  might  be 
more  nearly  opposite  to  the  temple  of  Karnak. 

The  propylaea  of  this  noble  edifice  are  filled  with 
sculptures,  representing  the  triumph  of  some  ancient 
monarch  of  Egypt  over  an  Asiatic  enemy :  an  event 
which  appears  to  have  been  a  favourite  subject  with 
the  sculptors  of  Egypt.  The  absence  of  the  adytum 
or  sanctuary,  as  well  as  the  different  subjects  of  the 
reliefs  or  intaglios,  which  occupy  the  walls  of  this  build- 
ing, representing  battles,  hunting  scenes,  and  similar 
matters,  has  led  Heron  to  consider  the  edifice  at 
Luxor  to  have  been  a  palace,  or  rather  a  public  build- 
ing for  some  civil  purpose.  Although  the  temples  and 
civil  buildings  of  Thebes  have  many  common  features, 
yet  the  sculptures  found  on  the  former  are  exclusively 
of  a  religious  and  symbolical  character.  Perhaps  the 
position  of  the  edifice,  which  might  seem  a  fitting 
entrance  to  the  state  offices  of  the  royal  city,  may 
give  additional  support  to  this  ingenious  and  probable 
conjecture. 

But  it  is  the  remains  of  Karnak  which  alike  defy 
comparison  and  description.  Ch^mpollion  has  enthu- 
siastically observed,  that  "  the  imagination,  wliieh  in 
Europe  rises  far  above  our  porticos,  sinks  abashed  at 
the  foot  of  the  one  hundred  and  forty  columns  of  tlio 
hypostole  hall  of  Karnak." 


la 


1 
I 

\ 

1 
n 
a 

F 
a 

s 

f( 

« 


THEBES. 


68 


As  Karnak  is  pre-eminently  connected  with  the 
worship  of  Ammon,  and  is,  moreover,  best  calculated 
to  convey  some  idea  of  the  splendour  of  Thebes,  of 
"populous  No,  that  was  situate  among  the  rivers 
that  had  the  waters  round  about  it,  whose  rampart  was 
the  sea,  and  her  wall  was  from  the  sea" — a  somewhat 
circumstantial  description  '^iU,  it  is  hoped,  be  accept- 
able. 

About  one  mile  and  a  quarter  lower  down  the  river, 
and  at  about  2,500  feet  from  its  banks,  are  these 
mighty  ruins,  the  chief  portion  occupying  an  artificial 
elevation,  surrounded  by  a  wall  of  unburnt  bricks, 
about  5,300  yards  in  circuit.  Within  these  walls  are 
the  remains  of  several  buildings,  the  largest  of  which 
is  contained  within  the  enclosure,  which  was  of  suffi- 
cient extent  to  hold  also  a  large  tank,  cased  with  stone, 
and  with  steps  leading  down  to  it.  The  chief  or  west- 
ern front  is  turned  towards  the  Nile,  with  which  it  was 
connected  by  an  alley  of  colossal  ram-headed  sphinxes. 
At  the  termination  of  this  magnificent  avenue,  there 
was  probably  a  flight  of  steps  leading  down  to  the 
river. 

"Here,"  observes  Professor  Long,  "the  devotee 
would  land,  who  came  from  a  distance  to  the  shrine  of 
Ammon,  and,  with  amazement  and  a  feeling  of  religious 
awe,  would  he  slowly  walk  along  between  the  majestic 
and  tranquil  sphinxes  to  the  still  more  magnificent 
propyla  of  the  building.  This  colossal  entrance  is 
about  360  feet  long,  and  198  feet  high,  but  without 
sculptures ;  the  great  door  in  the  middle  is  sixty-four 
feet  in  height.  Passing  through  this  door-way,  he 
would  enter  a  large  court,  occupied  by  a  range  of 


m 


GREAT    CITIES    01'    THE    WORLD. 


pillars  on  the  north  and  south  sides,  and  a  double  row 
of  tall  pillars  running  down  the  middle.  The  pillars 
in  the  middle  of  the  entrance-court  terminate  opposite 
to  two  colossol  statues  in  front  of  a  second  propylon, 
through  whicii,  after  ascending  a  flight  of  twenty-seven 
steps,  he  w*  ul  i  come  to  a  large  hall  which  has  had  a 
fiat  stone  ^jof.  This  is  the  great  hypostole  hall  of 
Karnak,  which  is  supported  by  one  hundred  and  thirty- 
four  colossal  pillars,  there  being  sixteen  columns  run- 
ning across  the  breadth  of  the  building,  in  nine  parallel 
rows,  which,  however,  as  we  rhall  presently  notice,  offer 
some  irregularities. 

"  The  hypostole  hall  has  a  double  row  of  larger 
pillars,  twelve  in  number,  running  down  the  centre. 
Owing  to  the  projection  of  a  doorway  or  entrance  from 
the  court  which  succeeds  the  hvpostole  hall,  there  aro 
two  piliars  cut  off  on  each  side  from  the  rows  of  smaller 
pillars  which  are  next  to  the  larger  ones.  This  reduces 
the  whole  number  to  one  hundrcsi  and  tliirty-fovir, 
which  would  be  one  hundred  and  fortv-four,  if  all  the 
pillars  were  of  the  same  size,  and  if  there  M'ei-c  no 
iwregularity  in  the  two  rows  nearest  the  centre  rows 
(j\  each  side.  The  width  of  this  magiiiucc  it  ii;i]l  is 
about  338  feet,  and  the  length  or  brondth  ITOA-  feet. 
It  is  remarkable  that  tlio  great  courts  iind  cliarnbers 
in  some  of  tlie  oldest  Egyptian  builings,  such  as 
Aledinet-Abou  and  the  tomb  of  Osymandyas,  liave 
their  width  greater  than  their  length ;  the  eiitrsince, 
in  fact,  is  in  the  centre  of  the  longest  side.  The  area 
of  this  prodigious  hall  is  57,629  squnre  feet,  on  which 
stand  the  hundred  and  thirtv-four  columns,  the  iai-frest 
near  eleven  feet  in  diameter,  once  ?upporiing  a  i  oof  of 


TnBBKS. 


ts 


enormous  slabs  of  stone.  Words  are  inadequate  to 
express  the  grandeur  of  conception  exhibited  in  thifl 
design.  ■        .  •' ■<'^' 

"  The  two  rows  of  columns  down  the  middle  are 
larger  than  the  rest,  and  were  designed  to  support  the 
highest  parts  of  the  roof,  in  the  vertical  sides  of  which 
small  window-lights  are  cut.  Both  the  pillars,  walls, 
and  propyla  of  this  magnificent  colonnade  are  com- 
pletely covered  with  sculptured  forms  of  deities." 

We  must  not,  however,  forget,  that  although  there  is 
evidence  that  among  these  monunents  we  must  seek  for 
the  oldest  and  most  genuine  specimens  of  Egyptian  art, 
they  do  not  by  any  means  appertain  to  one  period  of 
Egyptian  greatness.  Some  parts  of  the  temple  at  Luxor 
and  of  the  larger  building  at  Karnak  bear  traces  of 
having  been  partly  constructed  out  of  the  materials  of 
a  fonncr  building.  This  is  evident  from  blocks  of  stone 
being  found  occasionally  placed  with  the  hieroglyphics 
inverted,  and  the  ruins  at  Nineveh  present  similar  indi- 
cations. Although  we  find  the  names  of  Philip,  Alex- 
ander, and  Bernice,  represented  in  hieroglyphical  cha- 
racters, and  enclosed  in  the  usual  elliptical  rings,  we 
•lave  no  right  to  limit  the  antiquity  of  these  buildings 
to  the  era  of  the  Macedonian  occupation  of  Egypt 
(8.  c.  525.) 

Such  was  Thebes.  Occupying  a  site  one  hundred 
and  forty  furlongs  in  circumference,  sending  forth, 
according  t  the  quaint  calculations  of  the  father  of 
Greek  poetry,  its  twice  ten  thousand  armed  chariots, 
yet  did  the  curse  of  idolatry  pursue  it,,  and  No-Ammon 
became  the  burden  of  the  prophet,  and  the  unhappy 
subject  of  divine  judgments.     Some  time  before  Nine- 


6S 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


veh  fell,  Nahura  had  threatoned  her  with  the  fate  of 
No-Ammon,  and  bewailed  the  fall  of  the  eity  of  an 
huhdred  gat<\^. 

As  Thebcb  in  ancient  times  had  prcscrvr'd  her  power 
indepe?i'lcntly  of  the  invasions  of  the  shepherd  kingt*, 
and  as  she  hau  suhsequently  risen  to  the  iiighest  pitch 
of  greatness  and  prospcfity,  so  was  hei  fall  consum- 
mated bj  the  slow  but  certain  dcv^tructiveness  of  man. 
Conquered  by  the  Ethiopians,  the  Egyp'tians  fell  into 
disorder,  and  were  but  indifferently  le-uruted  under  tho 
reign  of  Psammethicus.  The  Persian  conqQest,  u:  B.  c. 
526,  under  the  guidance  of  tho  childish  and  cruel 
Cambyses,  was  naturally  fraught  with  evil  consequences 
to  v.rrks  of  art,  although  Pliny  ha,  presei-ved  a  story 
to  ihc  effect  that  Cambyscs  was  so  struck  with  admira- 
tion at  one  of  the  obelisks,  that  he  ordered  the  flames 
to  be  quenched  when  they  reached  its  base.  The  great 
population  of  Thebes  lived  chiefly  in  wooden  huts,  and 
the  vast  flames  rising  from  so  large  a  mass  of  combus- 
tible materials  would  crack  and  displace  the  stones  even 
of  the  greatest  buildings.  Fire  ever  does  for  man's 
works  what  the  sword  does  more  quickly  for  man 
himself. 

Under  the  Ptolemies,  little  was  done  to  restore  or 
embellish  Thebes,  and  in  the  reign  of  Ptolemy  Lathyrus 
(b.  c.  8G)  this  city  rebelled,  and,  after  a  three  years 
siege  was  captured  and  pillaged  by  its  oflendod  master. 
But  from  the  first  blow  struck  by  tlie  Etliiopian  Sabaco, 
Thebes  had  gradually  declined.  Egypt  had  continually 
kept  assuming  a  dependent  position,  and  this  her  mighty 
gtronghold,  tlie  admiration  of  the  world,  gave  up  her 
ja.adeut  honours,  and  was  left  bare   and  defenceless 


■■•Irii.r.':.  -. 


67 


by  her  ilcgenerating  inhubitiiiits.     Under  the  Romans 
it  lost  the  hist  remnants  of  ;vealth  and  power. 

The  present  appearance  of  t)ie  ruined  district,  bear- 
ing melancholy  witness  to  the  destructiveness  of  man 
and  the  j)erishab]e  feebleness  of  his  greatest  works,  is 
well  described  bv  a  modern  writer.*  "  The  whole  of  thi3 
grc^at  extent  is  more  or  less  strewed  with  ruins,  broken 
columns,  and  avenues  of  sphinxes,  colossal  figures, 
obelisks,  pyramidal  gateways,  porticoes,  blocks  of 
polished  granite,  and  stones  of  extraordinary  magni- 
tude; while  above  them,  'in  all  the  nakedness  of  deso- 
lation,' the  colossal  skeletons  of  giants'  temples  are 
standing  in  the  unwatered  sands,  in  solitude  and  silence. 
They  arc  neither  grey  nor  blackened ;  there  is  no 
lichen,  no  moss,  no  rank  grass  or  mantling  ivy  to  robe 
them  and  conceal  their  deformities.  Like  the  bones  of 
man,  they  seem  '  to  whiten  under  the  sun  of  the  desert.* 
The  sand  of  Africa  has  been  their  most  fearful  enemy ; 
blown  upon  them  for  more  than  three  thousand  years, 
it  has  buried  the  largest  monuments,  and,  in  some 
instances,  almost  entire  temples." 

*  Stephens'  Incidents  of  Travels,  p.  33. 


MODI.RN  r.ClVPTIANS. 


^^ 


MEMPHIS    AND    IIELIOPOLIS. 

v'vf.^      jTa    O  bout  ten  miles  south  of  Jizeh, 
^m^  I     -where   8tand   the   great   pyra- 


mids, tlio  village  of  Metra- 
heuny,  half  coiioealcd  in  a 
thicket  of  palm  trees,  on  the 
western  side  of  the  river,  marks 
the  site  of  the  once  mighty  city 
of  Memphis,  the  Noph  of  the 
Scriptures.  It  has  been  so 
much  exposed  to  plunder  from 
the  successive  conquerors  of  the 
country,  who  have  used  it  as  a  stone-quarrv,  that  its  very 

'm) 


m 


MRMPUIS    AND    IIEI.IOPOLIS. 


69 


site  lias  Leon  douLtcd.  A'urlous  remains  of  the  groat 
temple  oT  riiilia,  and  of  other  .sacred  buildings,  are 
loosely  scattered  over  an  extensive  space;  the  most 
interesting  being  some  fine  red  granite  blocks,  of  great 
size ;  furniing  portions  of  colossal  statues  long  since 
broken  to  pieces. 

As  TlieboK  was  the  capital  city  of  l^^gypt  during  its 
historical  period,  so  was  ^leniphis  for  a  long  time  its 
rival  both  as  a  regal  city,  and  a  seat  of  commerce.  It 
also  appears  to  have  been  the  capital  city  of  that  portion 
of  Egypt  in  or  near  which  the  Israelites  were  settled. 
As  this  is  nearly  the  earliest  occasion  in  which  Egypt 
bears  a  prominent  ])art  in  sacred  history,  a  brief  view 
of  Sir  Gardner  AVilklnson's  hypothesis  cannot  fail  to 
be  interesting.  It  must  be  recollected,  however,  that 
no  attempt  is  liero  made  to  substantiate  or  reconcile 
statements  which  labour  under  difficulties,  the  combined 
'result  of  imperfect  documents  and  extravagant  chro- 
nology. 

The  Amosis,  or  Ames,  who  was  the  leader  of  the 
eighteenth  or  Theban  Dynasty,  Wilkinson  suppos^,^ 
to  have  been  the  king  under  whom  the  oppression  of 
the  Israelites  connnenccd.  Under  the  old  Memphite 
dynasty,  tlie  Jews,  "  who  had  come  into  Egypt  on 
occasion  of  a  famine,  finding  the  great  superiority  of 
the  land  of  Egypt,  both  for  obtaining  the  necessaries 
of  life  and  for  feediuir  their  flocks,  mav  have  asked  and 
obtained  a  grant  of  land  from  the  I'^iryptian  monarch, 
on  condition  of  certain  services  being  performed  by 
them  and  their  descendants."  But  on  the  accession  of 
the  Theban  fannly  under  Amosis,  who  was  probably  the 
"new  king  who  knew  not  .Tosi'j)h,"  it  would  be  rea- 


I 


TO 


C11I:AT    Llli^ej    OF    lilE    WUlU.D. 


nonablo  to  suppoae  that,  ccniiiug  from  the  distant  pro- 
vince of  Thebos,  the  Hebrews  would  be  strangers  to 
him,  and  that  ho  was  likely  to  look  upon  them  with  the 
same  distrust  and  contempt  with  which  the  Egyptians 
usually  treated  foreigners.  Hence,  the  grant  being 
rescinded,  but  the  service  still  required,  the  Jews  were 
reduced  to  a  state  of  bondage ;  and  as  despotism  sel- 
dom respects  the  rights  of  those  it  injures,  additional 
labour  was  imposed  upon  this  unresisting  people.  And 
Pharaoh's  pretended  fear,  lest,  in  the  event  of  war, 
they  might  make  common  cause  with  the  enemy,  was  a 
sufficient  pretext  with  his  own  people  for  oppressing  the 
Jews,  at  the  same  time  that  it  had  the  effect  of  exciting 
their  prejudices  against  them.  Thus  they  were  treated 
like  the  captives  taken  in  war,  and  were  forced  to 
undergo  the  gratuitous  labor  of  erecting  puldic  grana- 
ries, and  other  buildincrs  for  the  Ejvptian  monarch. 
-  After  the  death  of  this  and  the  succeeding  prince, 
and  during  the  reign  of  Thothmes  L,  Moses,  the  future 
regenerator  of  Hebrew  liberty,  made  a  first  cfiort  to 
resist  the  oppression  under  AvhicJi  his  countrymen  had 
groaned,  and  was  compelled  to  take  flight  in  order  to 
avoid  the  consequences  of  his  boldner;s.  At  the  deiith 
of  this  king's  successor,  no  longer  dreading  the  wrath 
of  the  authorities,  and  stimulated  by  a  heavcn-su])- 
ported  patriotism,  he  returned  to  Egypt,  and,  after 
displaying  an  unexampled  series  of  G Oil's  judgments 
against  the  callous  idolatry  of  the  heathen  oppressoi>;, 
ho  led  the  Israelites  "  out  of  Egypt,  out  of  the  houio 
of  bondage." 

If  this  prince  were  really  the  Pharaoh  under  whom 
the   Israelites  left  Egypt,   ho   was,    according   to   the 


% 


V 


MEMPHIS    AND    HELIOPOLIS. 


Tl 


evidence  of  inonunicnts,  one  of  the  most  talented  and 
prosperouH  uionnrolis  previous  to  the  supposed  Angus- 
tan  era  of  Sesostris.  liut  these  faets,  according  to  the 
theory  avo  mention,  are  wholly  inconsistent  with  the 
supposition  that  ho  was  drowned  with  his  army  in  the 
Red  Sea  whilst  in  pursuit  of  the  Israelites.  On  the 
contrary,  his  greatest  works  appear  to  have  been  sub- 
Bequent  to  the  Exodus. 

Whotlior,  however,  this  view  of  the  matter  can  be 
thought  a  safe  one,  tnuHt  be  decided  by  persona  more 
conversant  with  original  records  than  J  can  pretend  to 
be ;  but  there  seems  little  doubt  that  Memphis  and 
Thebes  may  have,  under  various  vicissitudes  and  politi- 
cal changes,  divided  the  honour  of  sending  an  absolute 
ruler.  The  supposition  that  two  kings,  of  different 
local  dynasties,  reigned  together  at  certain  periods  of 
Egyptian  history,  has  already  been  noticed. 

In  concluding  this  digression,  we  cannot  fail  to  be 
Btruck  by  the  coincidence  between  liio  facts  of  Mem- 
phis having  been  the  grand  seat  of  persecution  against 
the  Israelites,  and  the  heavy  weight  of  desolate  afllic- 
tion  which,  long  since  foretold,  fell  upon  the  doomed 
city  of  Noph.  Most  agreeable  was  it  to  the  Almightj^'s 
care  for  his  own,  most  suited  to  his  avenging  justice, 
that  t*ho  scene  of  his  chosen  people's  humiliation  should 
become  the  most  signal  evidence  of  his  triumph  over 
their  enemies.  Great  as  were  his  judgments  against 
Thebes,  her  ruins  still  bear  far  greater  marks  of  former 
magnificence  than  the  shattered  and  irregular  remnants 
of  the  temple  which  had  exhausted  the  wealth  and 
taste  of  a  long  succession  of  proud  jMemphitc  monarchs. 

Before  concluding  our  notices  of  Esvptian  cities  wo 

7 


V 


74 


GUEAT    C  IT  IKS    OF   THE   WORLD. 


will  direct  the  render's  attention  to  the  great  temple 
of  Apollinopolis  INIagua,  (Edfou,)  on  the  left  branch  of 
the  Nile,  between  Sycne  and  Esneh,  which,  before  the 
French  expedition  to  Egypt  under  Napoleon,  was 
almost  unknown.  It  is  a  magnificent  work  of  art,  and 
interesting  not  only  as  presenting  a  fair  average  of  the 
sacred  structures  of  Egypt,  but  because  of  its  supposed 
resemblance  to  the  temple  of  Solomon.  It  is  described 
as  follows  in  the  "Egyptian  Antiquities:" — 

"  The  entrance  is  composed  of  two  pyramidal  moles, 
sometimes  called  propyltea  by  modern  writers,  each 
front  of  which  is  about  104  feet  long,  and  37  feet  wide 
at  the  base  ;  the  moles  are  about  114  feet  high.  These 
dimensions  diminish  gradually  from  the  base  to  the 
summit,  where  the  horizontal  section  is  84  feet  bv  20. 
The  walls  of  the  moles  are  sculptured  with  immense 
figures,  in  the  best  style  of  Egyptian  art;  and  between 
the  moles  is  the  grand  entrance.  Thi.s  entrance  con- 
ducts to  a  court  (which  may  be  partly  seen  in  the  view) 
8urrou7id<;d  hy  pillars.  On  each  of  the  lai'Ter  s^iiles 
there  is  a  row  of  twelve  pillars  wiiich  are  placed  at 
some  distance  from  the  side  walls:  and  :is  the  .^}.iice 
between  the  tops  of  the  pillars  :uid  the  wall  is  rootled 
over,  a  covered  j^oi'tico  is  formeil,  which  Icinis  on  mch 
side  to  the  doors  of  the  staircases  which  aio  in  the 
pyramidal  moles.  These  staircases  furnish  nccess  to 
the  chambers  of  the  propylrea.  There  is  a!:^o  a  row  of 
four  pillars,  including  the  corner  one,  on  each  side  of 
the  doorway  as  we  enter  the  court,  similarly  covered 
over.  From  the  base  of  these  pillars  to  the  top  of  ihy 
stone  covering  is  about  37  feet,  G  inches.  From  the 
entrance  of  the  court  t(/  the  porch  of  the  temple  itself 


,i„U*ii^b-.fc^j^:v-j;jrt.j.^t;,-'.,; 


MEMPHIS    AND    HELIOPOLIg. 


77 


there  is  a  gradual  ascent  by  a  kind  of  steps,  so  that  the 
portico  is  about  56  feet  above  the  lowest  level  of  the 
court.  This  is  common  in  many  other  temples,  and 
appears  to  have  been  done  for  the  purpose  of  giving 
elevation  to  the  facade.  In  the  temple  at  Edfou,  the 
portico  consists  of  eighteen  pillars,  six  in  a  row;  the 
intercolumniations  of  the  central  pillars  forming  the 
doorway,  being,  as  usual,  the  largest.  The  intercolum- 
niations of  the  front  row  of  pillars  are  built  up  to  half 
their  height.  After  passing  through  this  porch  there 
is  a  doorway  leading  to  the  sekos  or  cells,  which,  in  the 
Egyptian  temples  is  alwai/s  divided  into  several  apart- 
ments. The  entrance  passage  has  on  each  side  a  long 
chamber,  and  conducts  into  a  large  hypostole  hall,  sup- 
ported by  twelve  pillars.  It  has  a  flat  roof,  composed 
of  thick  slabs  of  stone,  resting  on  large  stone  beams 
which  cross  from  each  pillar  to  the  next  in  the  same 
row.  After  leaving  this  chamber  we  come  to  another 
long  and  narrow  one,  from  wbich  there  are  two  small 
entrances  to  the  side  galleries,  ■  ];crein  wc  see  flights 
of  steps  leading  up\Yards  to  tli  roof  of  the  sekos. 
Still  further  we  see  another  smail  chamber,  with  an 
apartment  on  each  side  of  it,  probably  for  the  use  of 
the  priests.  From  this  ;a.t-mentioned  chamber  we 
enter  the  holy  recess  itself,  (the  sanctuaryj'i  an  oblong 
room  about  33  feet  by  17,  in  which  the  figure  of  the 
deity  was  placed.  .  .  .  From  the  chamber  which  is  im- 
mediately in  front  of  the  adytum,  we  see  two  galleries 
run  down  on  each  side  of  it,  and  leading  to  a  doorway, 
by  which  the  priests  might  walk  into  a  large  but  per- 
fectly retired  space  all  round  the  sanctuary,  or  might 
ascend  to  the  roof  by  a  flight  of  steps,  to  enjoy  the 


ii 


m"- 


V 


7S 


r.REAT   CITIES    OF   THE   WorJ.P, 


pure  air  and  light  on  the  terraced  roof;  for  below  they 
had  no  light  at  all,  except  it  might  be  from  small  aper- 
tures, througli  vrhich  the  Fellahs,  who  now  Ua'c  on  the 
]'0()f,  discharge  all  their  dirt  into  the  temple.  It  will 
be  observed,  that  from  the  covered  gallery,  on  each 
side  of  the  large  open  area,  there  is  a  path  continued 
all  round  the  temple,  bet.veen  the  outer  and  inne>'  ^T/vII. 
Probabl}'  the  vulgar  were  allowed  to  use  this  walk,  ail 
a  thick  wall  was  between  them  and  the  apartmc.its 
devoted  to  the  priests  and  the  vvorship  of  the  deity ; 
for  none  but  the  priests,  and  probably  the  kings,  were 
admitted  into  the  inner  apartments,  much  less  into  the 
adytum,  „hich  contained  the  representation  of  the 
deity.        .,      ,..,.,  .,.v... 

Now  it  would  be  difficult  to  establish  a  detailed 
analogy  between  this  temple  and  that  of  Solomon,  from 
the  want  of  distinct  information  concerning  the  latter; 
but  we  think  that  the  general  resemblance  which  we 
have  suggested  will  be  the  more  confirmed,  the  more 
carefully  a  comparison  is  made." 


.(fjiUv'^'f  ?»;*nv-||ft.  feiti'^r*  ;  ,■ '■';l-* 


PERSEPOLIS. 


"  A\  cxalto'l  God  is  Auramnzda, 
Wlio  ('ro!it<>(l  this  parth  ami  votider  lieaven. 
Who  created  tlie  races  of  men,  and  who 
lirotight  forth  to  liaht  their  niightincsa, 
V>'ho  in.Ki?  Darius  n  iMil.or  ,  .  j^,    ^  ,,. 

An  aloiie-rti'zning  king  over  many, 
An  i.lone-ruJins;  commarider  over  thousands. 


nXff: 


"I  am  Darius,  King  fcxr.ltod,  ,  .\  v*,* . 

King  of  Kings,  . 

King  of  all  nation-enclosing  territoriea, 
King  of  this  exalted  earth,  near  and  far,  .  v,  ^t- 

Son  of  ilystaspes,  an  Achaemeuian,  a  Persian, 
Son  of  an  Arian,  myself  an  Arian,  distributor  of  honours 


y.-.;    -'-^f 


■T   *H 


•'  Darius  the  King  lets  this  sound  forth  :  — 

By  the  grace  of  Auraniazda,  1  these  \  :  ■"    :.  .:; 

Following  regions  have  conquered,  .... 

Besides  the  Persian  country.     I  am 

To  be  revered  o;'  them  ;  to  me  they  have  portioned  forth  ti'ibute ; 
•  Every  command  of  mine  have  they  fulfilled  ;  and  my  law 

Was  respected  of  them  : — 

I- 1 

"Media,  Susiana,  P.irthia,  Aria,  ,•  -    -,: 

Baetria,  Sogdiana,  Chorasmia,  -    y  ,iu\: 

Sarangia,  Arachotia,  Sattagydia,  Gandaria,  ,  > 

Scindia,  the  Imaus-dwelling  Saoae,  the  Sacae, 
Drinkers  in  of  the  f(nlnt^«  of  Tigris,  Babylonia,  .\8S3'ria, 
Arabia,  Mythrnya,  (uEgyptia,)  Armenia, 
Cappadocia,  Sparta,  Ionia,  the  over-sea-residing  Sacae, 
The  Skhudrii  (?Scyths,)  the  louians  of  Tauros,  the  Budiuns, 
The  Khuscliiyae,  the  Madiyae,  the  Chalcidiaus. 

"  Darius  the  King  lets  this  sound  afar : —  ,   .    :..» 

When  Auramazda 
BehelJ  tbia  oju-th 

(79)     •  ' 


f 


80 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


rv-,.^«    l.'.'i-^'V-' 


::ii^^  -.^a 


Afar  from  what  was 

Right,  as  a  king  it  pleased  hira 

To  constitute  me.     I  am  King 

By  the  grace  of  Auramazda ; 

I  have  ordered  them  again  to  healthiness. 

What  I  directed  them  to  do,  that 

Did  tliey  as  it  seemed  good  unto  me ; 

Whatever  entered  into  my  mind. 

Commanded  I  those  nations  to  pei-form; 

Those  nations  reigned  over  by  Darius.  " 

***** 
"  If  you  hold  carefully  the  sculpture 

It  brings  you  comfort, 

If  you  wilfully  damage  it,  "'' 

Heirlessness  shall  be  your  part, 

Afar  off  from  the  Persians.         *        *  '    ■ 

Passed  away  sluill  be  the  inheritance, 

Afar  off  shall  dwindle  the  Persians !  ■.     » 

Up  Persians,  and  castigate  sinfnlnoss !  '"       ■ '" 

"  This  is  sounded  afar  of  Darius       1^  '      '      * 

The  king  : — What  I  have  completed  is  by  the  grace  of  Auramazda, 
May  thou  protect  me  and  my  work. 
And  my  nations  and  these  territories!     This  I 
Entreat  of  All  rftfoazda  !     May  Auramazda  reign ! 

"Man!  pureut    ...ii.:..ily  the  ordinances  of  Auramazda; 
Holy  precepts  '.     Lei  him  be  thy  enlightener  I 
ReliB'^tiish  iW5>t  the  straight  way! 
Sin  not!     Avoid  to  destroy  '' 

Such  are  the  strains  in  which  the  Persians  of  ohl 
celebrated  +!>«;  f lories  of  their  nation  under  the  reign 
of  Darius  iiy8ta8;^<es.  Th^  triumphal  Paean,  which,  like 
the  Odes  "  the  Thebau  yindar.,  bkads  haughty  and 
exulting  praiJ^ea  of  the  conqueror  witu  quaint  moral 
saws  and  precepts,  fo«rHis  a  fitting  introduction  to  our 
notice  of  the  ru>acd  city  of  Pciso\)o]ijS.  It  must,  how- 
ever, be  observed,  that  these  ruins,  altho.ugh,  by  the 


-I 


I 


PERSEPOLIS.      t  k,i»,4Jf 


81 


height  of  their  columns  compared  with  the  thinness  of 
their  proportions,  they  m;iy  seem  to  approximate  to  the 
slim  delioney  of  the  Corinthian  style  of  Grecian  art, 
still  their  claims  to  a  hi«.ch  scliool  of  art  are  less  esta- 
blished tlian  those  of  their  Assyrian  and  Egyptian  pro- 
totypes. Vaux,  one  of  the  most  distinct  and  compre- 
hensive writers  on  tlie  subject,  well  points  out  the  two 
distinct  schools  of  art  indicated  by  the  monuments  of 
ancient  Persia,  as  those  executed  previous  to  the  period 
of  Alexander  the  Great,  and  tliose  Avhich  are  due  to  the 
monarchs  of  the  Sassanian  house.  Of  the  former 
class,  those  of  Persepolis  have  the  best  claim  to  our 
attention,  as  well  from  their  own  magnificence,  as  from 
the  complete  information  with  which  the  frequent  visits 
of  travellers  have  furnished  us. 

If  the  reader  expect  to  find  many  known  historical 

facts  connected  with  the  history  of  the  "  Forty  Pillars," 

as  these  ruins  are  popularly  called,  he  will  be  even 

more  disappointed  than  in  the  case  of  the  Babylonian 

and  Assyrian  remains.     It  nowhere  appears  in  history 

in  the  character  of  a  royal  residence,  although,  as  our 

description  Avill  presently  show,  their  burial  place  has 

been  discovered  among  the  caves  of  its  neighbouring 

mountains.     Cyrus-,  the  regenerator  of  oriental  power 

and  civilization,   as  well  as  his   descendants,   resided 

alternately   at    Babylon,    Susa,    and    Ecbatana,    and 

chronological  reasons  seem  to  render  it  unlikely  that 

Cyrus  could  have  spent  much  time  at,  or  added  to  the 

splendour  of  Persepolis.     To  Darius,  son  of  Ilystaspes, 

and  Xerxes,  recent  investigations  seem  to  assign  them 

beyond  much  reason  for  doubt. 

Assuming,  then,  that  Persepolis  owed  its  chief  magni- 


83 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


ficence  to  the  liberality  of  tho  former  of  those  two  kings, 
a  brief  glance  at  the  political  inilucnce  and  condition 
of  the  Persians  under  him  will  perhaps  form  tho  best 
Introduction  to  our  notice  of  Persepolis  in  its  fallen 
condition. 

Herodotus  has  dwelt  w'uli  inucli  apparent  accuracy 
upon  the  political  acts  of  this  prince,  which  present  the 
same  blending  of  the  arts  oi"  war  and  peace,  the  same 
impatience  for  extended  empire  united  with  the  same 
cautious  conversation  at  hoim.',  which  we  find  in  the 
other  chief  personages  of  philosophical  history.  As  in 
the  case  of  Egypt,  accumulated  territory  required  a  dis- 
tribution of  official  influence,  and  the  now  large  empire 
of  Persia  was  divided  into  nineteen  satrapies.  Hero- 
dotus is  evidently  wrong  in  regarding  this  as  a  merely 
financial  arrangement,  made  with  a  view  to  the  taxation 
of  districts,  although,  as  has  been  suggested,  it  is  not 
perfect  as  a  geographical  one.  Places  extremely  dis- 
tant are  found  ranged  under  one  satrapy,  but  it  seems 
possible  that  this  arrangement  might  have  resulted  from 
a  desire  of  conciliating  the  feelings  of  particular  people, 
who,  although  distant,  were  best  disposed  to  yield 
obedience  to  some  leaders  whose  dispositions  they  had 
each  previously  experienced.  Furthermore,  such  an 
arrangement  would  be  fraught  with  little  inconvenience 
in  a  country,  where  an  organized  staff  of  couriers  per- 
formed the  functions  of  a  regular  post,  and  thus  pre- 
served uniformity  by  a  systematic  and  steady  convey- 
ance of  the  royal  despatches  and  edicts.  By  sucli 
means  the  natural  tendency  to  revolt,  to  which  we  luu  o 
before  referred  in  the  case  of  other  mixed  populations 
of  the  east,  was  efficiently  curbed,  one  province  being 


rM"^.        . 


I  \ 


PEKyKPoUiS. 


made  a  compaiitivo  restraint  upon  its  neighbour. 
Dining  8uch  a  reign,  it  is  fair  to  suppose  that  Perse- 
polis  was  second  to  nono  of  the  leading  cities ;  nay 
more,  it  may  have  been  the  leading  scene  of  the  con- 
quering Uaiius. 

But  the  victorious  career  of  this  prince  was  destined 
to  end  witli  the  doubtful  c  i  lign  against  the  Scythians. 
Jtcturning  with  a  pai't  "-cess,  his  latter  days  wero 

clouded  by  the  revolt  i>  '    and  by  tlie  grand  blow 

struck   by  the  succes.-^  u  its  of  the  Persians  dt 

Platiua  and  Marathon,  on   September  29,  B.^  c.  490. 
His  death  left  the  puerile  Xerxes  heir  to  a  throne  he 
could  ill  support,  but  whoso  contributions  to  the  palace  • 
of  Persopolis,  left  unlinished  by  his  father,  are  perhaps 
his  best  chiim  to  mention  in  the  present  essay. 

Wo  may  now  proceed  to  give  some  idea  of  the  ruins 
of  the  magnificcn.co  Avhich  the  united  testimony  of 
ail  'ient  writers  has  afisigncd  to  the  great  fallen  city  of 
P('v:sc])olis.  The  voice  df  i>o  elotjuent  and  so  accurate 
an  eve-witness  as  Sir  Robert  Kor  Porter,  must  tell  its 
own  tale  : — 

"  On  drawing  near  to  the  (Jhobel  Minar,  or  Palace  of 
Forty  Pillars,  the  eye  is  riveted  by  the  grandeur  and 
beautiful  decorations  of  the  flights  of  steps  which  lead 
up  to  them.  This  superb  approach  consists  of  a  double 
staircase,*  projecting  considerable  before  the  northern 
i'ace  of  the  terrace,  the  whole  length  of  which  is  212 
feet;  and  at  each  extremity,  east  and  west,  rises 
another  range  of  steps;  again,  about  the  nuddle,  and 
lu-ojeeting  from  it  eighteen  feet,  appear  two  smaller 
llights,  rising  from  the  same  points,  where  the  extent 
of  the  range,  including  a  landing-place  of  twenty  feet, 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


A 


1.0 


I.I 


If  li^ 


IM 

2.2 


1.8 


L25  IIIIII.4    III  1.6 


Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


V  MP. 


:* 


^ 


Z 


.<P 


"^ 


\ 


l\ 


m 


86 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


amounts  to  eighty-six  feet.  The  ascent,  like  that  of 
the  great  entrance  from  the  plain,  is  extremely  gradual : 
each  flight  containing  only  thirty-two  low  steps,  none 
exct'odiug  four  inches  in  height,  fourteen  inches  in 
breadth,  and  sixteen  feet  in  length.  The  whole  front 
of  the  advanced  range  is  covered  with  sculpture.  The 
eye  at  first  roves  over  it,  lost  in  the  multitude  of  figures, 
and  bewildered  by  the  thronging  ideas  instantly  asso- 
ciated with  tin;  crowd  of  various  interesting  objects 
before  it.  The  space  immediately  under  the  landing- 
place  is  divided  into  three  compartments.  The  centre 
one  has  a  plain  surface,  as  if  intended  for  an  inscrip- 
tion ;  probably  writing  may  have  been  there  which  is 
now  obliterated.  To  the  left  of  it  are  four  standing 
figures,  about  five  feet  six  inches  high,  habitjed  in  long 
robes,  with  brogues  like  buskins  on  their  feet.  They 
each  hold  a  short  spear  in  an  upright  position  in  both 
hands.  The  fluted  liut-topped  cap,  before  descri])ed  on 
other  bas-reliefs,  is  on  their  heads ;  and  from  the  left 
shoulder  hangs  their  bow  and  quiver.  On  the  )"ight  of 
the  vacant  tablet  are  throe  figures  only.  They  look 
towards  the  opposite  four,  and  diiTcr  la  no  way,  with 
respect  to  tlicir  robes  and  fluted  helmcl ;  but  they  have 
neither  bows  nor  ([uivev,  carrying  their  spear  only, 
with  the  addition  of  a  large  shield  on  the  left  arm, 
something  in  the  sliape  of  a  viuloncello ;  oi'' rather,  I 
should  say,  exactly  in  tlie  form  of  a  r><jeotian  buckler. 
Two  angular  space;-:,  on  each  side  of  the  corresponding 
groups  of  spearmen  described  on  the  surface  of  the 
staircase,  are  filled  with  duplicate  representations  of  a 
fight  between  ,c  lion  and  a  bull,  a  \\\o<t  spiiited  and 
admirable  pcri'orniance From  the  circumstance 


w 


PBRBEPOLKI. 


IT 


of  a  collar  round  the  neck  of  the  bull,  it  proves  him  |^ 
be  no  wild  one,  and  that  we  are  not  to  understand  iho 
combat  as  accidental :  but  whether  it  may  be  received 
as  a  proof  that  such  combats  were  brought  forward 
before  the  Persian  people,  is  another  question.  That 
wild  animals,  of  the  untameable  sort,  were  not  merely 
hunted  by  the  bold  spirits  of  these  eastern  princes,  but 
preserved  near  their  palaces,  is  evident  from  the  liom' 
den  which  we  find  at  Babylon  after  its  conquest  hf 
Cyrus ;  but  by  no  accounts  that  I  can  recollect,  does 
it  appear  that  beasts  so  immured  were  ever  used  for 
sport  of  any  kind  after  their  first  capture.  On  the 
inclined  plains,  corresponding  with  the  slope  of  the 
stairs,  runs  a  kind  of  frieze,  on  which  is  cut  a  line  of 
fi£;urc.s,  one  foot  nine  inches  high,  answering  in  numbw 
to  the  steps,  each  one  of  which  appears  to  form  a 
pedestal  for  its  relative  figure.  The  figures  themselves 
appear  to  be  a  lengthening  rank  of  those  already  de? 
scribed  on  each  side  of  the  blank  tablet :  and  a  similar 
range  runs  up  the  opposite  slope. 

"  The  immense  space  of  the  upper  platform  stretches 
to  the  north  and  south  350  feet,  and  from  east  to  west 
380  feet;  the  greater  part  of  which  is  covered  with 
broken  capitals,  shafts,  and  pillars,  and  countless  frag- 
ments of  building:  some  of  which  are  richly  orna- 
mented with  the  most  exquisite  sculpture.  The  pillars 
were  arranged  in  four  divisions,  consisting  of  a  centre 
group  six  deep  every  way,  and  an  advanced  body  of 
twelve,  in  two  ranks,  and  the  same  number  flanking 
the  centre.  The  first  is  to  the  north :  it  is  composed 
of  two  parallel  lines  of  six  columns  in  each,  falling 
twenty  feet  back  from  the  landing-place  of  the  stairs 


/^ 


y,:   rr 


9§  GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 

and  meeting  the  eye  immediately  on  ascending  them. 
The  columns  are  at  equal  distances  from  one  another. 
One  only  still  stands ;  the  shattered  bases  of  nine  others 
Btill  remain,  but  the  places  only  arc  left  of  the  other 
two,  which  completed  the  colonnade.  Of  the  remain- 
ing columns,  which  once  decorated  these  colonnades, 
nine  only  now  stand,  the  rest  have  been  totally 
destroyed,  or  lie  buried  under  masses  of  ruins,  now 
forming  hillocks.  The  front  of  the  olumns  is  very 
beautiful ;  their  total  height  is  sixty  feet,  the  circum- 
ference of  the  shaft  sixteen,  and  its  length,  from  the 
capital  to  the  torus,  forty-four  feet.  The  shaft  is 
finely  fluted  in  fifty-two  divisions ;  at  its  lower  ex- 
tremity begin  a  cincture  and  a  torus,  the  first  two 
inches  in  depth,  and  the  latter  one  foot,  from  whence 
devolves  the  pedestal,  in  the  form  of  the  cup  and  leaves 
of  a  pendant  lotus.  The  capitals  which  remain,  though 
much  injured,  are  suflBcient  to  shew  that  they  were 
once  surmounted  by  a  double  demi-bull." 


i^ 


P-. 


{\ 


V 


I 


-' '. 


'M 


DAMASCUS. 


«Mr  HE  history  of  Damascus  presents  a 
*         strong  contrast,  in  more  than  one 
respect,  to  that  of  the  cities  which 
have  hitherto  formed  the  suhjects 
of  our  remarks.     Not  only  are  the 
scriptural  notices  of  this  city  more 
distinct,  numerous,  and  interesting, 
hut  it  is  to  this  day  a  populous  and 
flourishing  city,  although  the  influ- 
ence of  Moslemism  presses  with  a 
stern  and  despotical  sway  upon  the  mixed  population 
of  Jews  and  Christians  which  throng  its  streets  and 
bazaars. 

Of  the  origin  of  this  most  scriptural  of  cities,  nothing 
certain  is  known,  but  it  certainly  was  well  known  in 
the  days  of  Abraham.  L.  Mliller  maintains  that  it 
was  even  then  governed  by  its  own  rulers,  an  opinion 
which  is  rendered  probable  by  its  subsequent  influence 
over  the  whole  Syrian  empire.  Possessed  by  nature 
of  every  advantage  of  situation  and  soil,  it  was  well 
suited  to  be  tlie  "  head  of  i^yria,"  the  powerful  and 

(91) 


/^ 


92 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


.\ 


busy  city,  which  was  hereafter  destined  to  give  alarm 
even  to  the  favoured  king  of  the  Jews,  David,  and  his 
successor.  Benhadad  II.,  in  his  campaign  against 
Samaria,  was  accompanied  by  "  thirty  and  two  kings  ;" 
and  although  these  were  doubtless  little  more  than 
pashas  or  satraps,  ruling  over  districts,  the  extent  of 
the  kingdom  of  Damascus  may  be  well  estimated  from 
their  number. 

But  great  as  was  the  power  of  Damascus  under  this 
prince's  reign,  idolatry  had  stretched  forth  its  corrupt- 
ing influence ;  and  although  Benhadad  was  permitted 
to  be  a  scourge  to  the  weak  and  wavering  Ahab,  his 
boastful  impiety,  and  his  daring  challenge  of  Jehovah 
as  a  "god  of  the  hills,"  brought  down  a  signal  defeat, 
the  result  of  a  heaven-inspired  delusion ;  "  for  the  Lord 
made  the  host  of  the  Syrians  to  hear  a  noise  of  chariots, 
and  a  noise  of  horses,  even  the  noise  of  a  great  host : 
and  they  said  one  to  another,  Lo,  the  king  of  Israel 
hath  hired  against  us  the  kings  of  the  Ilittites,  and  the 
kings  of  the  Egyptians,  to  come  upon  us.  Wherefore, 
they  arose  and  fled  in  the  twilight,  and  left  their  tents, 
and  their  horses,  and  their  asses,  even  the  camp  as  it 
was,  and  fled  for  their  life."  During  a  subsequent  ill- 
ness, he  fell  a  victim  to  the  treachery  of  Ilazael,  one 
of  his  chief  ofiicers,  who  smothered  him  in  his  bed,  and 
continued  to  oppress  the  people  of  Israel  and  Judah, 
especially  the  former.  Jerobonm.  however,  effected  a 
diversion  in  favour  of  the  oppressed  Jews,  and  captured 
Damascus.  Subsequently,  we  find  llezin  and  Pekah, 
the  confederate  kings  of  Damascus  and  Israel,  making 
a  joint  attempt  against  Ahaz,  king  of  Judah.  Tho 
prince  sought  aid  at  the  hands  of  the  Assyrian  monarch, 


\\ 


..\ 


*    DAMASCUS. 


93 


ags; 

than 
nt  of     ' 

from 


Tiglatli  Pilescr,  who,  induced  by  a  largo  bribe,  fell  upon 
and  captured  Damascus,  carrying  its  people  captive  to 
Kir,  slaying  their  monarch,  and  uniting  the  Syrio- 
Daraascene  territory  with  his  own. 

Tho  glory  of  Damascus,  as  an  independent  kingdom, 
had  set ;  and  she  henceforth  appears  in  the  pages  of 
history  only  as  a  tributary  province.  Annexed  to  the 
Babylonian  and  Persian  empires,  it  fell  into  the  hands 
of  Alexander  the  Great,  just  after  the  decisive  battle 
of  Issus  ;  and  at  his  death  formed  a  part  of  the  kingdom 
of  the  Seleucidse,  whence  it  passed  to  the  Romans. 

It  is  in  its  condition  as  a  Roman  province  that  Da- 
mascus claims  especial  consideration,  in  reference  to 
the  history  of  the  New  Testament.  Fraught  with 
associations  the  most  interesting ;  with  the  remembrance 
of  a  divine  interposition  the  most  sublime  in  its  mani- 
festation, the  most  important  in  its  influence  on  the 
spreading  forth  and  earth-wide  development  of  the 
mighty  truths  of  Christianity ;  the  scene  of  Paul's  con- 
version, humiliation,  and  "setting  apart"  for  the  glori- 
ous work  that  was  to  change  darkness  into  light,  and 
spread  the  white  wings  of  the  angel  of  Truth  over  the 
whole  dark  abyss  of  an  erring  and  ignorant  world ; 
Damascus,  next  to  Jerusalem,  lies  before  us  as  "  holy 
ground," — as  one  of  those  spots  where  the  grandest 
convulsions  of  society  took  their  origin,  as  teeming  witli 
fondly-cherished  recollections  of  the  great  Apostle  who 
"became  all  things  unto  all  men." 

It  is  not  difficult  to  suppose  tliit  the  spots  pointed 
out  as  intimately  connected  witli  St.  Paul's  vision  and 
conversion  may  have  been  preserved  by  the  pious 
remembrance  of  Christians ;  and  that  the  traditions 


< 


M 


i:^.J 


94 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE    WORLD. 


which  place  the  scene  of  this  great  revelation  from 
heaven  about  half  a  mile  eastward  from  the  city,  and 
in  sight  of  Mount  Hermon,  as  well  as  those  which 
point  out  the  gate  (now  walled  up)  whence  Paul  was 
let  down  in  a  basket,  in  order  to  escape  from  the  death 
with  which  he  was  threatened,  deserve  more  credence 
than  is  always  to  be  accorded  to  such  stories.  Maun- 
drell,  whose  account  well  deserves  perusal,  quaintly 
describes  a  building  shewn  as  the  house  of  Ananias, 
who  restored  Paul  to  sight.  "The  place  she\»n  for  it 
is,  according  to  the  old  rule,  a  small  grotto  or  cellar, 
affording  nothing  remarkable,  but  only  that  there  are 
in  it  a  Christian  Church  and  a  Turkish  praying-place, 
seated  nearer  to  each  other  than  well  agrees  with  the 
nature  of  such  places."  In  the  days  of  Benjamin  of 
Tudela,  the  taste  for  displaying  relics  did  not  confine 
itself  to  objects  of  Christian  interest.  A  grand  mosque, 
called  the  "  Synagogue  of  Damascus,"  was  pointed  out 
as  the  palace  of  Benhadad,  "one  wall  of  which  was 
framed  of  glass  by  enchantment.  This  wall  contained 
as  many  openings  as  there  are  days  in  the  solar  year, 
and  the  sun  in  gradual  succession  threw  its  light  into 
the  openings,  which  were  divided  into  twelve  degrees, 
equal  to  the  number  of  the  hours  of  the  day,  so  that 
by  this  contrivance  every  body  might  know  what  time 
it  was."  The  rib  of  an  ancient  giant-king,  named 
Abchamas,  traditionally  said  to  have  reigned  over  the 
whole  world,  was,  according  to  the  same  authority, 
exhibited  with  equally  superstitious  veneration. 

But  although  Damascus  was  thus  singularly  honoured 
in  being  made  the  scene  of  the  first  spreading  forth  of 
Christianity  among  the  Gentile  world,  the  compulsory 


f\ 


.^'- 


escape  of  St.  Paul  proves  that  its  inhabitants  possessed 
little  susceptibility  of  the  truths  which  were  thus  roira- 
rulouslv  set  before  their  eyes.  Nor  is  it  uninstruetive 
to  innrk  the  connection  of  the  bigotry,  which  has  dis- 
tingui.sheil  the  conduct  of  the  inhabitants  towards  the 
Christians  at  a  4uter  period,  with  the  intolerant  fury  of 
its  Jewish  inhabitants,  which  led  them  to  stifle  the  first 
dawning  of  the  truth,  and  to  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  the 
awakening  voice  of  their  conscience-smitten  and  repent- 
ant countryman. 

Nevertheless,  as  if  in  mercy  to  the  scattered  people 
of  Israel,  Damascus  is,  to  this  day,  one  of  the  most 
flourishing  citii'S  of  the  East.  After  a  continued  exist- 
ence for,  perhaps,  a  longer  period  than  any  other  city 
of  the  earth,  its  wealth,  trade,  and  commerce,  arc  still 
suggestive  of  the  splendid  position  it  occupied  under 
the  Greek  emperors  of  <^inst-antino))l{'.  Desi-ite  its 
conquests  by  Abubekr,  Muhamuiad'.s  famous  successor, 
and  by  Tiuiur  the  Tartar,  at  a  .sub.so(|ueiit  period; 
despite  the  reign  of  Islaniism  which  has  pressed  its 
harsh  footsteps  on  the  subdued  ClnistiaTis,  Damascus 
is  a  livfly  reprosentative  of  every  country  of  the 
world.  Willie  IJaalhek  and  Pahnyra,  its  niairuificent 
neighbours,  present  nou^rht  but  a  licap  of  shattered 
ruins,  the  streets  of  DamaseiH  resound  witli  the  busy 
hum  of  men  ;  and  though  persecution  ?»til!  thrcnteris  tlio 
name  of  Christian,  and  brands  the  IVank  as  tiot-leini, 
natural  influences  arc  gradually  sottenin;^  tlie  cry  <>f 
bigotry,  and  amelioratinj;  the  eonditiou  of  resident 
believers. 

Travellers  arc  unanimrni,;  in  <!eseriliii'::  the  beauty 
of  the  t:UiTouuding  pl;iiu:>,  an  i  liic  piv.l'!rc?<[iu;  eiTect  of 


$S^^ 


IIP  ORLAT  CITIES  OF  THH  WORLD. 

the  city  itself,  a»  viewed  on  approaching  it.  Came,  in 
his  Letters  from  the  £ast,  gives  the  following  interest- 
ing description  : — "  On  the  following  day  we  set  out 
early,  impatient  to  behold  the  celebrated  plain  of 
Damascus.  A  large  round  mountain  in  front  prevented 
us  from  catching  a  glimpse  of  it,  unt4),  on  turning  a 
point  of  the  rock,  it  appeared  suddenly  at  our  feet. 
Perhaps  the  barren  and  dreary  hills  we  had  been  for 
some  days  passing  made  the  plain  look  doubly  beauti- 
ful, and  we  stood  gazing  at  it  for  some  time  ere  we 
advanced.  The  domes  and  minarets  of  the  sacred  city 
rose  out  of  the  heart  of  a  forest  of  gardens  and  treees, 
which  was  twelve  miles  in  circumference.  Four  or  five 
small  rivers  ran  through  the  forest  and  city,  glittering 
at  intervals  in  the  sun  ;  and  to  form  that  vivid  contrast 
of  objects,  in  which  Asiatic  so  much  excels  European 
scenery,  the  plain  was  encircled  on  three  of  its  sides  by 
mountains  of  light  and  naked  rocks. 

"  After  descending  the  mountain,  we  were  some  time 
before  we  entered  the  city.  Damascus  is  seven  miles 
in  circumference  ;  the  width  is  quite  disproportionate  to 
the  length,  which  is  above  two  miles.  The  walls  of  this 
most  ancient  city  in  the  world  are  low,  and  do  not  en- 
close it  more  than  two  thirds  round. 

"  The  stFeet  still  called  Straight,  and  where  St.  Paul 
is  with  reason  said  to  have  lived,  is  entered  by  the  road 
from  Jerusalem.  It  is  as  straight  as  an  arrow,  a  mile 
in  length,  broad,  and  well  paved.  A  lofty  window  in 
one  of  the  towers  to  the  east,  is  shown  as  tlio  ])l;i(,'rt 
where  the  apostle  was  let  down  in  a  basket.  In  I  lie 
way  to  Jerusalem  is  the  ppot  where  his  coarse  was 
arrested  by  the  light  from  heaven.    A  Chriatian  is  not 


\ 


\\ 


DAMASCUS. 


allowed  to  reside  in  Damascus,  except  in  a  Tarkilh 
dress. 

^*The  great  number  of  tnll  palm  and  cypresi  treei 
in  the  plain  of  Dsimascus  add  much  to  its  beauty. 
The  fruits  of  the  plain  arc  of  various  kinds,  and  of  cx« 
client  flavour.  Provisions  are  cheap ;  the  bread  is  the 
finest  to  be  found  in  the  Ea^t ;  it  is  sold  every  morning 
in  small  light  cakes,  perfectly  white,  and  surpasses  in 
quality  even  that  of  Pariii.  This  luxurious  city  is  no 
place  to  perform  penance  in  ;  the  paths  around,  wind- 
ing through  the  mass  of  fruit-trees,  invite  you  daily  to 
the  roost  delightful  rides  and  walks.  Among  the  fruits 
produced  in  Damascus  are  oranges,  citrons,  and  apricots 
of  various  kinds.  The  celebrated  plain  of  roses,  from 
the  produce  of  which  the  rich  perfume  (attar  of  roses) 
is  obtained,  is  about  three  miles  from  the  town ;  it  is  a 
part  of  the  great  plain,  and  its  entire  area  is  thickly 
planted  with  rose-trees,  in  tlie  cultivation  of  which  great 
cnre  is  taken. 

"  The  place  called  *  the  Meeting  of  the  Waters,*  is 
about  five  miles  to  the  north-west  of  the  city.  Here 
the  river  Barrady,  which  may  be  the  ancient  Abana, 
being  enlarged  by  another  river  that  falls  into  it  about 
two  miles  off,  is  divided  into  several  streams,  which 
flow  through  the  plain.  The  separation  is  the  result  of 
art,  and  takes  place  at  the  foot  of  one  or  two  rocky 
hills,  and  the  scene  is  altogether  very  picturesque.  The 
streams,  six  or  seven  in  number,  are  some  of  them 
carried  to  water  the  orchards  and  gardens  of  the  higher 
grounds,  others  into  the  lower,  but  all  meet  at  last  close 
to  the  city  and  form  a  fine  cataract." 


-.»•" 


.«?'■ 


4  tfi  *n- 


}St 


{Sftjint      f>r5-«!«l 


ir-t^      '--^rr 


PALMYRA, 


tti    : 


"tt^^  I- 

-.--K  HAVE  retained  the  Grecian  name  of 

this  interesting  city,  although  the  pre- 
valence of  local  usage  still  clings  to 
the  ancient  Tadmor.  Throughout  the 
East,  from  the  oldest  times,  the  pre- 
sence of  the  palm-tree  has  ever  been 
regarded  as  a  proof  of  fertility,  es- 
pecially in  distinguishing  the  small 
oases  rising  like  islands  in  the  ocean,  amidst  a  barren 
tract  of  sand,  and  gladdening  the  tired  and  thirsty 
traveller  by  the  hope  of  a  green  shade  and  fresh  water 
—two  blessings  which  all  who  have  visited  the  East 
eagerly  appreciate.  Hence  has  the  palm-tree  become 
I,  favourite  subject  in  architectural  decoration,  as  in  the 
Egyptian  temples  at  Denderah  and  Luxor;  and  the 
«'  City  of  Palms"  was  a  natural  and  fitting  epithet  for 
this  grand  commercial  resort,  frequented,  in  the  days 
of  its  founder  Solomon,  by  caravans  from  all  the  leading 
cities  of  the  East.  It  must  be  remembered,  however, 
tliiit.  although  palm-trees  are  still  found  in  the  gardens 
wliieli  environ  the  ruins  of  Palmyra,  they  are  but 
{^paring  in  comparison  of  the  numbers  which  once  gave 
occasion  to  so  truly  eastern  an  epithet. 
p  B'.'fore  entering  upon  a  description  of  the  ruins  which 
cover  the  ground  upon  which  so  many  busy  thousands 
(98) 


^ 


■?j?"'' 


W 


jj^ijffwwiSj 


**■: 


V 


-    t. 


pal:4 


101 


once  cr&dBcked,  a  glance  at  the  political  features  of 
Solomon's  reign  will  furnish  the  most  probable  notion 
of  the  greatness  of  Palmyra,  and  of  the  motives  that 
led  to  its  aggrandizement. 

AVith  a  character  remarkable  for  caution  rather  than 
courage,  >vith  a  worldliness  of  disposition  which  led  him 
to  prefer  wealth  to  glory,  Solomon  was  fortunate  in 
succeeding  to  a  kingdom  which  the  complete  and  recent 
victories  of  his  father  had  placed  in  a  state  of  compara- 
tive security.  The  circumstances  attendant  on  his  birth 
would  materially  tend  to  keep  him  in  comparative  seclu- 
sion, and  the  favourite  oflfspring  of  Bathsheba  was  per- 
haps spared  any  military  or  political  exertion,  till  the 
time  when,  with  an  understanding  matured  by  careful 
study,  and  a  disposition  as  yet  little  sullied  by  the 
temptations  of  court  intrigues,  or  the  more  dangerous 
allurements  of  idolatry,  he  found  himself  master  of  re- 
sources which,  as  is  oftentimes  the  case  with  the  labours 
of  another,  were  to  render  proverbial  the  name  of  the 
man  who  had  employed  rather  than  amassed  them. 
Nor  is  there  much  doubt  but  that  Bathsheba,  a  woman 
of  a  crafty  and  resolute  spirit,  who  had  gained  an  influ- 
ence sufficient  to  enable  her  to  supplant  those  whose 
claims  to  the  throne  seemed  more  direct,  had  a  con- 
siderable influence  in  forming  the  mind  of  the  future 
king.  Like  a  Tanaquil  or  a  Semiramis,  her  ambition 
and  her  forethought  instructed  Solomon  in  the  probable 
means  of  security,  and  the  right  organization  of  .a  power 
which,  once  misdirected,  would  come  to  the  same  pre- 
mature end  which  had  already  befallen  so  many  mighty 
dynasties. 

Universal  prosperity  cheered  the  efforts  of  the  Jews, 

9* 


'v^fi^^^r 


V 


102 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   ^VORLD. 


and  politicians  would  not  be  slow  to  deride  the  shrewd, 
money-making  habits  of  this  people,  even  in  their 
isolated  state,  up  to  the  present  day,  from  the  habits  of 
trade  matured  by  their  intercourse  with  the  Egyptians 
and  Tyrians  during  the  reign  of  this  "merchant-sove- 
reign." The  nature  of  the  traffic  thus  opened  has  been 
well  observed  by  a  masterly  biographer*  of  this  prince's 
history,  although  he  has,  perhaps,  taken  too  harsh  a 
view  of  the  private  character — made  too  little  allowance 
for  some  of  the  feelings,  of  Solomon. 
•  "  The  agricultural  tribes  enjoyed  a  soil  and  climate 
in  some  parts  eminently  fruitful,  and  in  all  richly  re- 
warding the  toil  of  irrigation  ;  so  that,  in  the  security 
of  peace,  nothing  more  was  wanted  to  develope  the 
resources  of  the  njition  than  markets  for  its  various 
produce.  In  food  for  men  and  cattle,  in  timber  and 
fruit-trees,  in  stone,  and  probably  in  the  useful  metals, 
the  land  supplied,  of  itself,  all  the  first  wants  of  its 
people  in  abundance.  For  exportation,  it  is  distinctly 
stated  that  wheat,  barley,  oil  and  wine,  were  in  chief 
demand ;  to  which  we  may  conjecturally  add,  wool, 
hides,  and  other  raw  materials.  The  king,  undoubtedl}', 
had  large  districts  and  extensive  herds  of  his  own  ;  but, 
besides  this,  he  received  presents  in  kind  from  his  own 
people,  and  from  the  subject  nations ;  and  it  was  pos- 
sible in  this  way  to  make  demands  upon  them,  witliout 
severe  oppression,  to  an  extent  that  is  unbearable  where 
taxes  must  be  paid  in  gold  or  silver.  He  was  himself 
at  once  monarch  and  merchant;  and  we  may,  with  much 


*  F.  W.  Xowraan,  in  Kitto,  v.  ii.  p.  780.  The  only  apology  I  cnn  make 
for  using  so  copious  an  extract,  is  my  iuability  to  convey  »o  much  infor- 
maUoD  in  a  better  manner. 


PALMYRA. 


108 


confidence,  infer,  that  no  private  merchant  •will  bo 
allowed  to  compete  with  a  prince  who  haa  assumed  tho 
morciintilc  chanictcr.  By  his  intimate  commercial  union 
with  the  Tyrians,  ho  was  put  into  the  most  favourable 
of  all  positions  for  disposing  of  his  goods.  That  ener- 
getic nation,  possesrsing  so  small  a  strip  of  territory, 
had  much  need  of  various  raw  produce  for  their  own 
Avants.  Another  large  demand  was  made  by  them  for 
the  raw  materials  of  manufactures,  and  for  articles 
which  they  could  with  advantage  sell  again ;  and  as 
they  were  able  to  furnish  so  many  acccpiublc  luxuries 
to  the  court  of  Solomon,  a  most  active  exchange  soon 
coniineneed.  Only  second  in  importance  to  this,  and 
stiperior  in  fame,  was  the  commerce  of  the  Ked  Sea, 
which  could  not  have  been  successfully  prosecuted  with- 
out the  aid  of  Tyrian  enterprise  and  experience-  The 
navigation  to  Shcba,  and  the  districts  beyond — whether 
of  Eastern  Arabia  or  Africa — in  spite  of  its  tediousness, 
was  highl}'  lucrative,  from  the  vast  diversity  of  produc- 
tions between  the  countries  so  exchanging;  while,  as  it 
ivas  a  tracp  of  monopoly,  a,  very  disproportionate  share 
of  the  whole  gain  fell  to  the  carriers  of  the  merchandize. 
The  Egyptians  were  the  only  nation  who  might  have 
been  rivals  in  the  southern  maritime  traffic ;  but  their 
religion  and  their  exclusive  principles  did  not  favour 
sea  voyages ;  and  there  is  some  reason  to  thiiik  that, 
at  this  early  period,  they  abstained  from  sending  their 
own  people  abroad  for  commerce.  The  goods  brought 
back  from  tho  south  were  chiefly  gold,  precious  stones, 
spice,  almug,  or  other  scented  woods,  and  ivory ;  all  of 
which  were  probably  so  abundant  in  their  native  regions 
as  to  be  parted  with  on  easy  terms :  and,  of  course, 


V. 


104 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


i  I 


were  all  admirably  suited  for  re-exportation  to  Europe. 
The  carrying  trade,  which  was  thus  shared  between 
Solomon  and  the  Tyrians,  was  probably  the  most  lucra- 
tive part  of  the  southern  and  eastern  commerce.  How 
Lirge  a  portion  of  it  went  on  by  caravans  of  camels,  is 
wholly  unknown ;  yet,  that  this  branch  was  considerable, 
is  certain.  From  Egypt  Solomon  imported  not  only 
linen  yarn,  but  even  horses  and  chariots,  which  were 
sold  again  to  the  princes  of  Syria  and  of  the  Hittites : 
and  were  probably  prized  for  the  superior  breed  of  the 
horses,  and  for  the  light,  strong,  and  elegant  structure 
of  the  chariots.  Wine  being  abundant  in  Palestine, 
and  wholly  wanting  in  Egypt,  was,  no  doubt,  a  princi- 
pal means  of  repayment." 

That  Solomon's  trading  correspondence  also  extended 
to  Babylon,  may  be  fairly  inferred  from  the  situation 
of  two  of  his  main  stations — Thapsacus,  on  the  Eu- 
phrates, and  the  city  we  are  now  describing.  Unfortu- 
nately, we  are  unable  to  identify  any  of  the  original 
architecture,  nor  has  research  brought  to  light  any 
remains  bearing  reference  to  the  reign  ofi  the  great 
founder  of  Jewish  commerce.  Some  square  towers, 
generally  regarded  as  the  tombs  of  the  ancient  inhabi- 
tants, in  which  are  found  memorials  similar  to  those  of 
Egypt,  are  found  along  the  lower  eminence  of  the 
mountains  called  Jabel  Belaes,  which  border  the  ruins, 
running  nearly  north  and  south.  These  are  probably 
of  older  date  than  the  decidedly  Grecian  structures 
which  compose  the  ensemble  of  the  ruins  ;  but,  taken  as 
a  whole,  the  remains  of  Palmyra  present  few  objects 
of  scriptural  interest. 

la  connection  with  the  commercial  influence  of  Pal* 


<l 


i; 


V 


PALMYBA. 


m 


105 


nayra,  Prideaux's  description  of  it  at  a  later  period, 
is  sufficiently  instructive  to  deserve  a  place  in  these 
pages. 

"  It  is  built  on  an  island  of  firm  land,  which  lies  in 
{he  midst  of  a  vast  ocean  of  sand,  in  sandy  deserts  sur- 
rounding it  on  every  side.  Its  neighbourhood  to  tho 
Euphrates  having  phiced  it  in  the  confines  of  two  potent 
empires — tliat  of  the  Parthians  on  the  east,  and  that 
of  tho  Romans  on  the  west — it  happened  often  that,  in 
tunes  of  war,  they  were  ground  between  both.  But, 
in  times  of  peace,  they  made  themselves  sufficient  amends 
by  their  commerce  with  each  of  them,  and  the  great 
riches  which  they  gained  thereby.  For  the  caravans 
from  Persia  and  India,  which  now  unload  at  Aleppo, 
did  in  those  times  unload  at  Palmyra,  and  from  thenco 
the  eastern  commodities,  which  came  overland,  being 
carried  to  the  next  ports  on  the  Mediterranean,  were 
from  thenco  transmitted  into  the  west,  and  the  western 
commodities  being  through  the  same  way  brought  from 
the  said  ports  to  the  city,  were  there  laden  on  the  same 
caravans,  aii.1,  on  their  return,  carried  back  and  dis- 
persed over  all  the  East.  So  that  as  Tyre,  and  after- 
wards Alexandria,  were  the  chief  marts  for  the  eastern 
trade  that  was  carried  on  by  sea,  Palmyra  was  for  aome 
time  the  chief  mart  for  so  much  of  that  trade  us  was 
carried  on  bv  land." 

I  have  before  observed  that  we  find  but  few  remains 
that  belong  to  the  era  of  the  early  glory  of  Palmyra. 
Even  as  early  as  tlie  reign  of  the  emperor  Trajan,  it 
was  lying  waste,  but  was  rebuilt,  under  the  name  of 
Adrianopolis,  by  his  successor  Adrian.  Under  Cara- 
calla  it  obtained  the   privileges  of  a  Roman  colony. 


106 


GREAT   CITIES   OP  THE  WORLD. 


During  the  weak  and  fast  failing  condition  of  the  Roman 
empire,  which  ensued  under  Galenius  and  Valerian,  when 
provinces  and  colonies  were  fast  asserting  their  inde- 
pendence of  the  mother  city,  Odenatus  became  master 
of  Palmyra,  and  of  the  whole  territory  of  Mesopotamia, 
lie  boldly  assumed  the  title  of  king,  and,  at  his  death, 
his  queen  Zenobia  became  mistress  of  most  of  the  east- 
ern provinces  of  the  Roman  empire. 

Zenobia  was  a  wonderful  woman.  Shrewd,  vigilant, 
and  persevering,  she  was  equally  renowned  for  her 
learning  and  her  political  abilities.  Whilst,  like  Lady 
Jane  Grey,  she  gave  her  private  moments  to  the  study 
of  Greek,  and  probably  of  the  sciences  of  eloquence 
and  criticism,  under  the  judicious  Longinus,  she  dis- 
played the  energy  of  an  Elizabeth  in  her  regular  atten- 
dance at  tlie  council-chamber,  and  in  her  admirable 
arrangements  for  the  defence  and  consolidation  of  her 
vast  power.  But  her  abilities  failed  to  withstand  the 
exertions  of  Aurelian,  who  vanquished  the  Amazon-like 
queen,  and  led  her  in  triumph  to  Rome,  leaving  the 
depopulated  and  ruined  city  as  an  evidence  of  his 
prowess.  Subsequently — perhaps  out  of  cumplinicn', 
to  the  bravery  and  skill  of  Zenobia — he  ordered  the 
Temple  of  the  Sun  to  be  restored,  garrisoned  the  town, 
and  appointed  a  deputy  over  the  surrounding  district. 
Subsequent  emperors  contributed  variously  to  the 
restoration  and  adornment  of  the  city,  but  in  a.  d.  744, 
it  was  taken  by  the  Khalif  Merwan,  after  an  obstinate 
resistance  of  seven  months,  and  its  decay  gradually  set 
in.  When  Benjamin  of  Tudela  visited  the  place,  it 
contained  "  2,000  warlike  Jews,  who  were  at  war  with 
the    Christians,   and   with    the    Arabian    subjects   of 


PALMYRA. 


107 


Noureddin."     In  a.  d.  1400,  it  nus  pillaged  by  the 
army  of  Tamerlane. 

"  Tlie  ruinn  cover  a  sandy  plain,  stretching  along  the 
basis  of  a  range  of  nioimtuins  called  Jebel  Belaes, 
running  nearly  north  and  south,  dividing  the  great 
desert  from  the  desert  plains,  extending  westwards 
towards  Damascus,  and  the  north  (»f  Syria.  The  lower 
eminences  of  those  mountains,  bordering  the  ruins,  are 
covered  with  numerous  solitary  s(jUiiro  towers,  the  tombs 
of  the  anciont  Pnlniyrenes,  iu  which  arc  found  me- 
morials similar  to  those  of  Egypt.  They  are  seen  to 
a  great  distance,  and  have  a  striking  eflbct  in  this 
desert  solitude.  Beyond  the  valley  Avhich  leads  through 
these  hills,  the  ruined  city  first  opens  upon  the  view. 
The  thousands  of  Corinthian  colunms  of  white  marble, 
erect  and  fallen,  and  covering  an  extent  of  about  a 
mile  and  a  half,  present  an  appearance  which  travellers 
compare  to  that  of  a  forest.  The  site  on  which  the  city 
stands  is  slightly  elevated  above  the  level  of  the  sur- 
rounding desert  for  a  circumference  of  about  ten  miles, 
which  the  Ara])S  believe- to  coincide  with  the  extent  of 
the  ancient  city,  as  they  find  ancient  remains  whenever 
they  dig  within  this  space.  There  are,  indeed,  traces 
of  an  old  wall,  not  more  than  three  miles  in  circum- 
ference, but  this  was  probably  built  by  Justinian,  at  a 
time  when  Palmyra  had  lost  its  ancient  importance, 
and  become  a  desolate  place,  and  when  it  was  conse- 
quently desirable  to  contract  its  bounds  so  as  to  include 
only  the  more  valuable  portion.  Voliiey  well  desciibea 
the  general  aspect  which  these  ruins  pi<'sent : — '  In  the 
space  covered  by  these  ruins  we  sometimes  find  a  palace, 
of  which  nothing  remains  but  the  court  and  walls; 


v.. 


108 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


sometimes  a  temple,  whose  peristyle  is  half  thrown 
down ;  and  now  a  portico,  a  gallery,  or  triumphal  arch. 
Here  stand  groups  of  columns,  whose  symmetry  is  de- 
stroyed by  the  fall  of  many  of  them ;  there  we  see 
them  ranged  in  rows  of  such  length,  that,  similar  to 
rows  of  trees,  they  deceive  the  sight,  and  assume  the 
appearance  of  continued  walls.  If,  from  this  striking 
scene,  we  oust  our  eyes  upon  the  ground,  another, 
almost  as  varied,  presents  itself:  on  all  sides  we  behold 
nothing  but  subverted  shafts,  some  whole,  others  shat- 
tered to  pieces,  or  dislocated  in  their  joints ;  and  on 
which  side  soever  we  look,  the  earth  is  strewed  with 
vast  stones,  half  buried,  with  broken  entablatures, 
mutilated  friezes,  disfigured  relicf»>,  effaced  sculptures, 
violated  tombs,  and  altars  defiled  by  dust.'  " 

Recent  travellers,  however,  are  much  less  glowing 
in  their  encomiums  of  the  beauty  of  the  ruins  of  Pal- 
myra. Whilst  allowing  the  grandeur  of  the  general 
effect,  they  complain  of  great  deficiency  in  the  propor- 
tion and  finish  of  the  details.  It  must,  however,  be 
remembered,  that  the  colossal  grandeur  of  an  original 
design  may  have  been  impoverished  by  the  alterations 
of  subsequent  ages,  and  that  the  degeneracy  in  art, 
which  characterized  the  declining  era  of  Rome,  has 
probably  left  marks  of  its  oflScious  interference  with  the 
works  of  a  more  refined  and  sober  school  of  art. 
Whilst  the  name  has  been  scrupulously  preserved,  not 
a  vestige  remains  of  the  old  city  of  Solomon. 


!l 


■•'.rt, 


f  \ 


aaHHiiilii 


I\ 


iil 


v. 


\ 


BAALBEK   OR   BAALGaD. 


IT  hnppc-ns,  unfortunately  for  the 
antiquarian,  that,  whilst  we  pos- 
sess the  most  comitlctc  doscriptions 
and  details  of  the  magnificent 
ruins  which  attest  the  ancient  lux- 
ury  and  wcnlih  of  the  inhabitants 
of  Baalbek,  we  possess  scarcely 
any  information  respecting  their 
history.  It  is  next  to  impossible 
to  believe  that  they  are  purely  of  Roman  ori|»in, 
although  we  have  authority  for  assigning  a  portion  of 
them  to  the  liberality  of  Antoninus  Pius.  It  is  possible 
that  this  emperor  may  have  restored,  augmented,  or 
altered  structures  already  existing ;  and  other  autho- 
rities seem  to  prove  that  Baalbek  was  always  regarded 
as  a  place  of  importance  under  the  emperors.  But  of 
its  earlier  history,  of  its  connection  with  primitive  East- 
ern nations,  and  its  relation  to  their  mythology  and 
superstitions,  we  possess  nothing  but  vague  conjectures, 
founded  upon  inadequate  and  unsatisfactory  data. 

"The  town  of  Baalbek  is  now  almost  a  complete 
ruin,  with  the  walls  which  surrounded  it,  of  an  irregu- 
lar quadrangle  in  form,  fallen  in  mpny  places,  and  iho 
inhabited  abodes  being  of  a  most  wret^lit'd  character. 
Immense  quantities  of  hewn  stone  and  fragments  of 
pillars,  both  of  the  common  rock  of  the  country,  are 
strewn  about  in  all  directions.    The  eve  of  the  traveller* 

(111) 


112 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WOULD. 


however,  does  not  rest  on  their  prostration  and  confu- 
sion, and  the  filth  with  Avhich  they  are  associated.  It 
sees,  standing  up  in  majesty  amidst  the  apocryphal 
Saracenic  and  Turkish  towers  and  walls  of  the  fort» 
the  proudest  and  grandest  memorials  of  human  archi- 
tecture on  which  it  has  ever  rested :  and  it  scans  with 
wonder  and  astonishment  the  remains  of  the  temples, 
and  their  courts  and  colonnades,  of  Ileiiopolis.  The 
ruins  are  those  of  a  greater  and  lesser  temple.  The 
sub-basement  of  both  the  temples  is  artificial,  to  givo 
them  a  superior  elevation  ;  and  the  court  of  the  larger, 
in  particular,  is  principally  on  arched  vaults,  to  some 
of  which  access  can  now  be  got.  The  peristyles  of  tho 
temples  stand  on  strong  masonry ;  but  this  it  has  been 
intended  to  conceal  by  facings  of  stone,  or  rather  rock, 
of  the  most  prodigious  si/e  ever  used  in  architecture, 
as  is  evident  at  the  western  and  northern  ends  of  the 
great  temple.  The  enormity  of  some  of  the  stones  of 
the  facing  has  been  often  brought  to  notice.  One 
stone,  in  the  western  wall — overlooked  both  by  Maun- 
drell,  and  Wood,  and  Dawkins,  probably  because 
irregularly  cut  in  the  outer  surface,  though  of  an 
undivided  mass — is  sixty-nine  feet  in  length,  thirteen 
in  depth,  and  eighteen  in  breadth,  affording  -altogether 
a  block  of  raised  rock — to  give  it  in  letters — of  sixteen 
thousand  one  hundred  and  forty-six  cubic  feet.  Tiie 
fellow  of  this  stone  is  left  nearly  ready  cut  in  the 
quarry,  about  a  quu»'ter  of  an  hour  to  the  south  of 
the  town,  to  challenge  posterity  to  come  up  to  the 
deeds  of  ancestry  by  removing  it  from  its  position. 
Above  the  stone  in  the  sub- basement  now  alluded  to, 
there  aroDther  three  of  enormous  dimeosions,  forming  ita 


,f      BAALBEK,   OR   BAAL-GAD. 


113 


i  :^ 


second  elevation,  of  which  Wood  and  Bawkins  say, 
that  they  found  the  length  to  make  together  above  a 
hundred  and  ninety  feet,  and  separately  sixty-three 
feet  eight  inches,  sixty-four  feet,  and  sixty -three  feet. 
But  let  us  return  again  to  our  plan.  We  have,  begin- 
ning with  the  east,  a  staircase,  leading  up  to  a  grand 
portico,  with  chambers  on  each  side.  From  the  por- 
tico, the  entrance  must  have  been  by  a  large  and  two 
smaller  doors  into  a  hexagonal  court,  with  various 
little  chambers  and  niches  for  idols,  the  pedestals  of 
which,  in  many  instances,  still  remain.  From  this 
court,  the  entrance  is  into  a  large  quadrangular  court, 
with  similar  conveniences.  Passing  this  second  court, 
we  are  at  the  large  temple,  properly  so  called.  Its 
remains,  in  addition  to  its  lower  works,  consist  of  a 
colonnade  of  six  Corinthian  pillars  of  majestic  size,  and 
bearing  a  rich  entablature,  forming  altogether  objects 
of  enchanting  architectural  beauty,  with  looking  at 
which  the  eye  is  never  satisfied.  These  columns  be- 
long to  the  flank  of  the  temple,  the  original  number 
having  been  nineteen,  while  there  were  ten  in  front. 
The  bases  and  pedestals  of  the  others  are  in  their 
places.  A  number  of  the  shafts  are  strewn  about, 
generally  with  the  three  pieces  of  which  they  were 
composed  separated  from  one  another.  The  height  of 
these  pillars,  including  the  architrave,  we  found  to  be 
seventy-five  feet  ten  inches.  Their  diameter,  taking 
the  measurement  between  the  first  and  second  stones, 
is  seven  feet  three  inches.  Their  distance  from  one 
another  is  eight  feet  seven  inches.  The  temple  cer- 
tainly was  never  finished.  The  ruins  of  Baalbek 
astonish  every  visitant.     Their  great  delineators,  who 


V 


nu 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


r 


took  only  an  artistic  vieAV  of  them,  say: — 'When  wo 
-compare  them  with  those  of  many  ancient  cities  which 
.•  we  visited  in  Italy,  Greece,  l^gypt,  and  other  parts  of 
.  Asia,  we  cannot  help  thinking  them  the  boldest  plan 
we  ever   saw   attempted   in    an:]iitecture.'     Speaking 
even   of   the   smaller   temple,    Maundrell    says: — 'It 
'Strikes  the  mind  with  an  uir  of  greatness  beyond  any- 
othing  that  I  ever  saw  before,  and  is  an  eminent  proof 
"  of  the  magnificence  of  the  ancient  architecture.'     Less 
igrave  and  sober  travellers  have  written  of  them  with 
"■■  unbounded  rapture.     Lord  Lindsay  says  : — '  Palmyra 
:  at  sunrise  and  Baalbek  at  sunset,  are  Claudes  trea- 
sured in  the  cabinet  of  memory,  which  neither  accident 
•can  injure,  nor  beggary  deprive  one  of.'  "    ^     -'  ~  '»''« 

A  French  writer  has  remarked,  that  the  present  ap- 
1  pearance  of  the  ruins  of  Baalbek  exhibits  a  remarkable 
instance  of  the  destructive  effects  of  vegetation  blossom- 
ing upon  the  ruins,  and  seeming  to  sport  in  the  desola- 
tion that  gives  it  birth.  The  ideas  that  suggested  the 
•simple  but  touching  ballad  of  the  "Ivy  Green"  to 
Charles  Dickens,"^  are  but  a  more  familiar,  though  less 
classical,  appeal  to  the  same  feelings  that  are  called 
forth  by  a  glance  at  the  ".nature  that  has  done  her 
work  of  destruction ;  that  has  stretched  forth  the  living 
ivies ;  that  have  disjointed  walls  of  the  utmost  solidity  ; 
has  sown  the  pillitory  that  creeps  about  the  archi- 
tectural ornaments ;  has  pressed  down  pilasters  with 
dense  clusters  of  nopal,  and  broken  through  ceilings 
with  the  towering  heads  of  the  sycamore." 

Travellers  concur  in  bearing  testimony  to  the  supe- 
riority of  the  architecture  of  Baalbek  over  that  of 
Palmyra ;  but  Addison,  a  judicious  but  somewhat  over- 


BAALBEK,    OR   BAAL-GAD. 


115 


critical  traveller,  consi'lers  that  "  the  ruins,  though  so 
striking  ami  niiignifu-ent,  nre  yet,  liowovcr,  quite  second- 
rate  when  conipaied  with  the  Athenian  ruins,  and  dis- 
play in  their  dceortition  none  of  the  hold  conceptions 
and  the  genius  which  characterize  the  Athenian  archi- 
tecture." 

It  is,  perhajis  to  be  wished  that  comparisons  with 
works  confessedly  belonging  to  the  highest  and  most 
advanced  school  of  Grecian  art,  were  less  frequently 
made  in  criticising  the  productions  of  an  uncertain  era; 
especially  when  we  have  insufficient  data  as  to  how  far 
the  blending  of  the  workmanship  of  ages  far  distant 
may  have  destroyed  the  vigour  and  grandeur  of  the 
original  design,  without  supplying  the  deficiency  with 
adequate  finish  of  decoration,  according  to  a  more  mo- 
dern rule  of  taste.  The  buildings  at  Baalbek  perhaps 
Si  ffer  in  this  respect,  as  much  from  the  exaggerations 
of  some  of  their  visitors,  as  from  a  too  critical  taste  for 
comparisons  on  the  part  of  others.  Kevertheless,  so 
favourable  is  the  general  impression  of  the  bold  subli- 
mity displayed  in  at  least  a  largo  portion  of  the  present 
remains,  that  we  will  venture  to  try  our  reader's  patience 
with  another  quotation  from  the  lively  pen  of  Castle- 
reagh : — 

"  I  cau  add  nothing  to  the  tributes  that  have  been 
paid  to  their  magnificence,  except  the  testimony  of  one 
fresh  from  all  the  wonders  of  Egypt,  and  the  fairy 
beauties  of  Petra,  who,  nevertheless  was  amazed  and 
enchanted  by  the  splendour  of  Baalbek.  Here  the 
traveller  finds  all  the  vastness  of  conception  and  execu- 
tion  belonging   to  the  Egyptian    school,   ornamented 


V 


^) 


116 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


by  the  richest  and  most  elaborate  sculpture  of  a  later 


age. 


*'  Nothing  can  surpass  the  friezes  and  cornices  of  the 
smaller  temple.  The  door  of  entrance,  as  a  piece  of 
•workmanship,  excels  all  that  even  imperial  Rome  can 
boast  of.  The  whole  area  of  these  edifices  is  covered 
with  prostrate'  columns  and  their  capitals.  The  stone 
is  very  hard,  and  the  cutting  as  fine  as  it  is  possible  to 
conceive.  But  wherever  the  eye  wanders  among  the 
r;iius,  it  involuntarily  turns  to  the  magnificent  Sextuor, 
which  rises,  like  the  personification  of  strength  and 
beauty,  as  if  it  stood  there  to  be  worshipped  as  the 
deity  of  the  place. 

"  But  it  is  painful  to  behold  the  destruction  that  time 
and  man  have  worked ;  many  are  the  changes  which 
the  temples  have  undergone  since  they  were  sacred  to 
the  idols  of  Baal ;  for  Baalbek  has  been  turned  into  a 
fortress,  and  bastions  and  batteries  have  been  erected 
among  her  colonnades  and  porticos.  These,  again,  are 
gone,  and  with  them  a  mosque  which  had  been  built  in 
the  midst  of  the  walls ;  but  many  a  fragment  on  which 
the  richest  sculpture  is  portrayed  is  recognised  amidst 
the  rough  execution  of  modern  Vandals,  who  broke 
down  pillar  and  capital,  frieze  and  bas-relief,  to  con- 
struct a  wretched  mosque,  and  make  a  fortification  that 
was  useless. 

"I  do  not  pretend  to  guess  at  the  history  of  Baal- 
bek, liut  it  is  clear  that  its  foundations  and  origin  are 
of  the  earliest  date.  How  far,  and  at  what  time,  the 
Roman  brought  his  taste  and  skill  to  bear  upon  what 
he  discovered  here,  I  know  not ;  but  the  temples  would 
appear  coteniporaueous  with,   or  very  little  younger 


Wt 


i  ►^*  *. 


>■. 


i 


CIBOULAR  TEMILE   AT  BAALBEC. 


BAALBEK,    OR   BAAL-OAI>>^ 


lltif 


than  Kainac  and  Luxor ;  all,  however,  is  lost  in  myi- 
tery,  for  the  traces  of  their  history  cannot  be  followod' 
out,  and  the  confusion  that  prevails  among  all  the  rem- 
nants of  these  mighty  edifices  renders  it  impossible  even 
to  guess  at  the  chain  of  vicissitudes  which  reduced  them 
to  their  present  state. 

"It  is  doubtful  whether  there  is  anything  in  th« 
world,  taking  it  as  a  whole,  more  imposing  than  tho 
colonnade  of  Baalbek  with  the  six  pillars  rising  oppo* 
Bite  to  it.  It  is  true  that  the  gigantic  proportions- 
urd  extent  of  Karnac  are  wanting;  but  Karnac,  on 
the  other  hand,  is  without  the  elaborate  sculptures  and' 
ornament  of  Baalbek. 

''There  is  a  small  circular  temple,  or  more  probably 
a  tomb,  near  a  fountain,  almost  covered  by  a  weeping- 
willoAv.  We  saw,  also,  a  building,  with  granite  co- 
lumns, containing  a  sarcophagus,  but  they  were  all  in 
ruins." 

It  is  not  impossible  that  a  portion  of  the  splendid 
buildings  at  Baalbek,  may  have  been  appropriated  to 
purposes  of  Christian  worship.  This  perhaps  arrested 
tho  progress  of  decay  for  some  time  after  the  age  of 
Constantino,  as  the  accounts  of  oriental  writers  assert 
that  Baalbek  continued  a  place  of  considerable  import* 
ance  down  to  the  time  of  the  Moslem  invasion  of  Syria ; 
and,  in  the  days  of  the  Emperor  lleraclius,  it  was  looked 
upon  as  a  strong  citadel,  Avell  calculated  to  withstand  a 
eiegc.  Notwithstanding,  however,  a  sturdy  resistance, 
it  was  forced  to  submit  to  the  conqueror ;  and  the  rich 
ransom  exacted  by  the  avarice  of  the  conqueror,  is  a 
satisfactory  evidence  of  its  commercial  wealth.  Whilst 
gradually  recovering  from  this  attack,  it  received  a 


11 


120 


GREAT  CITIES  07  THE  WORLD. 


rude  blow  from  the  Khalif  of  its  powerful  neighbour, 
Damascus ;  not  only  was  the  city  pillaged  and  thrown 
into  rains,  but  a  cruel  massacre  of  the  principal  inhabi- 
tants made  Baalbek  a  place  of  mourning. 

During  the  Crusades  but  little  mention  of  Baalbek 
appears ;  but  it  is  probable  that,  if  this  city  still  re- 
tained any  Christian  population,  this  circumstance  may 
have  aroused  the  spirit  of  persecution,  and  tended  to 
promote  the  work  of  desolation  that  had  already  com- 
menced. It  appears  no  longer  as  an  active  agent  in 
the  scene  of  the  world's  action,  and  little  as  we  know 
of  its  previous  influence  upon  the  vast  scheme  of  human 
progress,  we  trace,  in  its  subjection  first  to  ignorant 
and  marauding  tribes,  and  subsequently  to  the  moro 
refined  but  equally  ignorant  bigotry  of  the  Turkish 
nation,  evidences  of  the  sad  wear  and  tear  of  nations — 
of  that  mysterious  yet  calculating  influence  which  has 
reduced  the  once  magnificent  "City  of  the  Sun"  to  a 
wretched  village  of  mud-houses.  Even  the  fruitfulness 
of  nature  has  deserted  it,  and  the  grapes  and  the  pome- 
granates, once  so  abundant,  are  sought  for  in  vain. 


I  ! 


r\ 


11 


V' 


♦# 


*      ! 


V 


H 


y< 


m 


•lEOB  or  TYUE  UT  ALGXANDIR  THE  GREAT. 


TYRE. 


HE  histoiv  of  this  anoient 

"  niavt  of  nations"  is  so 

closclv    connected    with 

the  history  of  Solomon's 

reiijn,   that    I   must   en 

treat  my  reader  to  bear 

in  mind,  while  reading  the  present  article,  the  sketch 

just  given  of  that  prince's  political  character,  especially 

in  commercial  rehitions.  • 

Tiie   original  name  of  this  great  city  was  Tsor  or 
Tsur,  the  Sarru  of  the  Latins,  a  name  which  it  probably 

a  23) 


1 


124 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  HIE  WORLD. 


derived  from  having  been  at  first  founded  on  a  rocky 
Bite,  for  purposes  of  defence.  Its  original  position  was 
on  the  eastern  coast  of  the  Mediterranean,  about  mid- 
way between  Egypt  and  Asia  Minor,  and  near  the 
north-western  frontier  of  Palestine.  As  it  was  a  colony 
of  Zidon,  it  is  styled,  in  the  poetical  language  of  pro- 
phecy, the  *'  daughter  of  Zidon,"  which  was  evidently 
a  more  ancient  city,  although  chiefly  known  through 
its  participation  in  the  sins  of  idolatry  which,  in  Scrip- 
ture, connect  its  name  with  its  wealthy  and  powerful 
colony.  Prideaux  places  its  foundation  by  the  Zidon- 
ians  two  hundred  and  forty  years  before  the  building 
of  Solomon's  temple,  observing  that  "  it  soon  outgrew 
its  mother  in  largeness,  riches,  and  power." 

At  a  very  early  period,  we  find  the  Tyrians  pos- 
sessed of  sufficient  resources,  and  with  such  adequate 
capabilities  of  using  them,  that  David  resorted  to  their 
king,  Hiram,  for  assistance  in  realising  the  grand  de- 
sign of  his  whole  life,  the  "house"  for  the  Lord,  which 
his  successor  was,  however,  destined  to  finish.  The 
hewing,  and  probably  the  carving  of  timber,  and  "  cun- 
ning to  work  all  works  in  brass,"  were  the  qualifications 
chiefly  in  request,  but  if  we  turn  to  the  pages  of  pro- 
phecy, it  will  be  difficult  to  suggest  any  luxury  or  refine- 
ment of  life,  which  the  advanced  state  of  Tvrian  ait  and 
commerce  did  not  enable  it  to  furnish. 

As  the  sublimest  picture  of  an  ancient  city,  revelling 
in  w^ealth  and  iniquity,  even  while  the  finger  of  God's 
wrath  was  pointed  against  it,  and  while  his  judgment 
was  but  suspending  its  blow,  I  cannot  avoid  quoting 
the  burden  of  Ezckiel  in  "lamentation  for  Tyre  :"  *-~ 

•  Ezek.  xxviL  2,  sqq. 


^--'-  "• 


TYTIE. 


125 


" 0  thou  that  tut  Bitutito  at  the  entry  of  the  sea, 
which  art  a  merchant  of  the  people  for  many  isles,  Thus 
saith  the  Lord  God ;  0  Tyr-is,  thou  hast  said,  I  am 
of  perfect  beauty.  Thy  borders  are  in  the  midst  of 
the  seas,  thy  builders  have  perfected  thy  beauty.  They 
have  made  all  thy  ship-boards  of  fir-trees  of  Senir ; 
they  have  taken  cedars  from  Lebanon  to  make  masts 
for  thee.  Of  the  oaks  of  Bashan  have  they  made  thino 
oars;  the  company  of  the  Ashurites  have  made  thy 
benches  of  ivory,  brought  out  of  the  isles  of  Chittim. 
Fine  linen,  with  broidered  work  from  Egypt,  was  that 
which  thou  spreadest  forth  to  be  thy  sail ;  blue  and 
purple  from  the  isles  of  Elishah  was  that  which  covered 
thee.  The  inhabitants  of  Zidon  and  Arvad  were  thy 
mariners ;  thy  wise  men,  0  Tyrus,  that  were  in  thee, 
were  thy  pilots.  The  ancients  of  Gebal,  and  the  wise 
men  thereof,  were  in  thee  thy  calkers ;  all  the  ships  of 
the  sea,  with  their  mariners,  were  in  thee  to  occupy  thy 
merchandise.  They  of  Persia,  and  of  Lud,  and  of  Phut, 
were  in  thine  army,  thy  men  of  wni  they  hanged  the 
shield  and  helmet  in  thee ;  they  set  forth  thy  comeli- 
ness. The  men  of  Arvad,  with  thine  army,  were  upon 
thy  walls  round  about,  and  th(  iiammadims  were  in 
thy  towers ;  they  hanged  their  shield.s  upon  thy  walla 
round  about ;  they  have  made  thy  beauty  perfect. 
Tarshish  was  thy  merchant  by  reasf  n  of  the  multitude 
of  all  kinds  of  riches;  with  silver,  iron,  tin,  and  lead, 
they  traded  in  thy  fairs.  Javan,  'J'ubiil,  and  Meahcch, 
they  were  thy  merchants ;  they  traded  the  persons  of 
men  and  vessels  of  brass  in  thy  market.  They  of  the 
house  of  Togarmah  traded  in  thy  fairs  with  horses  and 
horsemen  and  mules.     The  men  of  Dadau  were  thy 

11* 


'  ' 


tl26 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


merchants :  many  isles  were  the  merchandise  of  thy 
hand ;  they  brought  thee  for  a  present  horns  of  ivory 
and  ebony.     Syria  was  thy  merchant  by  reason  of  the 

'multitude  of  the  wares  of  thy  making;  they  occupied 
in  thy  fairs  with  emeralds,  purple,  and  broidered  work, 
and  fine  linen  and  coral,  and  agate. 

"  Judah,  and  the  land  of  Israel,  they  were  thy  mer- 

.  chants :  they  traded  in  thy  market  wheat  of  Minnith, 

^  and  Fannag,  and  honey,  and  oil,  and  balm.  Damascus 
was  thy  merchant  in  the  multitude  of  the  wares  of  thy 

;  making,  for  the  multitude  of  all  riches ;  in  the  wine  of 
Helbon,  and  white  wool.  Dan  also  and  Javan  going 
to  and  fro  occupied  in  thy  fairs :  bright  iron,  cassia, 
calamus,  were  in  thy  market.  Dedan  was  thy  mer- 
chant in  precious  clothes  for  chariots.  Arabia,  and  all 
the  princes  of  Kedar,  they  occupied  with  thee  in  lambs, 
and  rams,  and  goats ;  in  these  were  they  thy  merchants. 
The  merchants  of  Sheba  and  Eaamah,  they  were  thy 
merchants ;  they  occupied  in  thy  fairs  with  chief  of  all 
spices,  and  with  all  precious  stones,  and  gold.  Haram, 
and  Canneh,  and  Eden;  the  merchants  of  Sheba, 
Assher,  and  Chilmad,  were  thy  merchants  in  all  sorts 
of  things,  in  blue  clothes,  and  broidered  work,  and  in 
chests  of  rich  apparel,  bound  with  cords,  and  made  of 
cedar,  among  thy  merchandise.  The  ships  of  Tarshish 
did  sing  of  thee  in  thy  market :  and  thou  wast  re- 
plenished, and  made  very  glorious  in  the  midst  of  the 
seas. 

"  Thy  rowers  havo  brought  thee  into  great  waters : 
the  east  wind  hath  broken  thee  in  the  midst  of  the  seas. 
Thy  riches,  and  thy  fairs,  thy  merchandise,  thy  mari- 
ners, and  thy  pilutrf.  thy  calkcrs,  and  the  occupiers  of 


■f.T-^-'.r 


TYRE. 


127 


thj  merchandise,  and  all  thy  men-of-war,  that  are  in 
thee,  and  in  all  thy  company  which  is  in  the  midst  of 
thee,  sliall  full  in  the  midst  of  the  seas  in  the  day  of 
ruin.  The  suburbs  shall  shake  at  the  sound  of  the  cry 
of  thy  pik)ts.  And  all  that  handle  the  oar,  the  mariners, 
and  all  the  pilots  of  tl»e  sea,  shall  come  down  from  their 
ships,  tlicy  shall  stand  upon  the  land ;  and  shall  cause 
their  voice  to  be  heard  against  thee,  and  shall  cry  bit- 
terly, and  shall  cast  up  dust  upon  their  heads,  they  shall 
wallow  themselves  in  the  ashes.  And  they  shall  make 
themselves  utterly  bald  for  thee,  and  gird  them  with 
sackcloth,  and  they  shall  weep  for  thee  with  bitterness 
of  heart  and  bitter  wailing.  And  in  their  wailing  they 
shall  take  up  a  lamentation  for  thee,  and  lament  over 
thee,  saying,  What  city  is  like  Tyrus,  like  the  destroyed 
in  the  midst  of  the  sea  ?  When  thy  wares  went  forth 
out  of  the  seas,  thou  filledst  many  people ;  thou  didst 
enrich  the  kings  of  the  earth  with  the  multitude  of  thy 
riches  and  of  thy  merchandise.  In  the  time  when  thou 
shalt  be  broken  by  the  seas  in  the  depths  of  the  waters, 
thy  merchandise  and  all  thy  company  in  the  midst  of 
thee  shall  fall.  All  the  inhabitants  of  the  isles  shall 
be  sore  afraid,  thev  shall  be  troubled  in  their  counte- 
nance.  The  merchants  among  the  people  shall  hivss  at 
thee;  thou  shalt  bo  a.  terror  and  never  shall  be  any 
more."  .     ■  ,   >• 

It  is  useless  to  attempt  dt.'scription  at'r(.'r  language  so 
graphic,  so  vivid  in  its  clouring,  so  minute  in  its 
details:  not  only  arc  the  nuvms  of  wealth  distinctly 
stated,  but  we  are  tilso  iufunucd  whence  thev  were  de- 
rived.  liefore  tlie  ivory  i.lironcs.  on  which  the  elders 
of  Tyre  ?^at,  the  natiuhs  of  ilic  vsiioic  carih   displayed 


128 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


their  treasures,  sought  their  aid  and  patronage,  and 

'  courted  approbation. 

But  the  other  side  of  the  picture  equally  claims  our 
contemplation,  and  for  sadder  and  more  solemn  reasons. 
It  is  a  melancholy  reflection,  that  the  arts  by  which 
man's  wants  are  satisfied — by  which,  in  fact,  new  desires 
are  created,  and  new  sources  of  gratification  opened  to 
the  eager  mind  of  man — that  these  arts,  which  set  forth 

*  the  progress  of  ripening  humanity,  and  make  man  the 
undisputed  lord  of  the  lower  classes  of  created  beings, 
should  be  so  often  the  means  of  corrupting  the  best 
feelings,  and  perverting  even  their  own  perfection  to 
purposes  of  evil.  As  with  the  polished  civilization  of 
other  older  cities  of  the  eastern  world,  so  was  it  with 
Tyre.     The  same  hands  that  wrought  the  delicate  vest- 

j  ments  in  which  her  kings  sat  as  they  gave  judgment, 
also  hung  the  tapestries  that  decked  the  temples  of  the 
Zidonian  idols.  The  same  cunning  workmanship  that 
once  wrought  the  brazen  decorations  of  a  temple  to  the 

.  true  and  only  God,  formed  senseless  idols.  As  the 
Israelites  in  the  desert  perverted  their  knowledge  of 
Egyptian  art  to  presumptuous  imitations  of  the  God 
whom  their  faithlessness  supposed  was  lost  to  them,  so 
did  the  Tyrians  persist  in  following  the  corrupt  practices 
of  their  ancestors,  till  God's  wrath  burst  forth,  and 
connueror  upon  conqueror  arose  to  punish  the  presump- 
tion of  the  city  to  which  Ezekiel  had  said: — "Thine 
heart  was  lifted  up  because  of  my  beauty ;  thou  hast 
corrupted  thy  wisdom  by  reason  of  thy  bngl)tness ; 
thou  hast  defiled  tbv  snnctuaries  bv  the  multitude  of 
thine  iniquities,  by  the  iniquity  of  thy  traffic ;  where- 
fore will  I  bring  forth  a  urc  from  the  midst  oi  thee,  it 


.n^  >*■' 


TVRB. 


129 


hh\\\  (^ovniir  tlieo  ;  nnd  I  will  bring  thee  to  ashes  upon 
the  earth,  in  tho  si;;ht  of  all  tbem  that  behold  thee." 

The  first  impovtiitit  fncmy  who  seems  to  have  at- 
tempted to  subdue  llio  ])r,nghty  Tyrians  Tvas  Shalma- 
noscr.  Somo  maritimo  towns,  w-hich  had  hitherto 
proserved  their  fidelity  to  Tyre,  revolted  to  this  prince, 
who,  enconra<;ed  by  their  defection,  and  led  on  by 
onnidiry,  joined  battle  with  them  at  sea.  But  tho 
Tyrians,  althoufjh  the}-  presented  a  small  armament  of 
twelve  ships  to  fight  aijainst  the  joint  fleet  of  the  Assy- 
rians and  rhcenicianp,  which  numbered  sixty,  came  off 
victorious,  and  vShsilmaneser  retinnl  in  disgust,  leaving 
an  army  to  blockade  tho  chy.  In  vain  did  they  cut  off 
the  supplies  of  water  f^iinished  by  the  aqueducts;  tho 
perseverinjy  Tyrians  duir  deep  wells,  by  which  they 
compensated  for  tho  denoiency,  and  after  thus  holding 
out  five  years,  the  deiath  of  Shalmaneser  relieved  them 
from  fear.*  k^  w 

Flu«:hed  with  the  glory  of  having  successfully  with- 
stood the  mijrhtiest  kins;  of  the  East,  the  Tvrians,  as  has 
been  well  observed,  "  for  a  time  pl!)yed  a  part  in  the 
ancient  world,  like  that  whieli  Venice  played  in  tho 
middle  ages.  Each  whs  insular,  <'olonial,  and  ^""nti- 
Mental — its  borders  in  the  midst  of  the  seas — tho  build- 
ers had  pwfocted  its  beauty — ever}'-  precious  stone  was 
its  covering.  Each  was  not  only  commercial  and  opulent, 
but  a  joyous  city,  a  pleasant   place  of  all  festivity — 


*  'At  this  crisis,  or  even  earlier,  an  island  half  a  mile  from  the  shore 
VM  made  a  ftronghold  for  tlie  riches  of  liie  city ;  the  water,  to  a  nautical 
poojilo,  being  the  best  bulwark  against  the  Assyriiins,  who  had  no  mari< 
tiin«  power.     Thfl  original  city  on  the  mainland  wo?  subsequently  named 

Vylnio-Tyrns,  or  Old  Tyre."— liitto,  v.  ii.  p.  SCO.     .,^         ,  ,.       _    ^. 


■    ! 


I 


!  :i 


180 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


dance,  song,  and  harp."*  It  was  against  Tyre  in  its  heat 
of  presumptuous  glory,  consequent  on  this  triumph  of 
its  ability  and  perseverance,  that  the  lamentable  denun- 
ciations of  Isaiah  and  Ezekiel  were  directed.  Let  us 
listen  to  the  narrative  of  their  fulfilment. 

Before  a  generation  had  passed  away,t  the  direful 
warnings  of  the  prophets  were  confirmed  by  the  appear- 
ance of  Nebuchadnezzar,  who,  after  an  obstinate  resist- 
ance of  fourteen  years'  duration,  made  himself  master  of 
the  old  city  of  Tyre.  But  the  inhabitants  had  mean- 
while removed  their  most  valuable  effects  into  an  island 
about  half  a  mile  distant  from  the  shore,  where  a  new 
city  was  rapidly  rising.  "  And  therefore,  when  Nebu- 
chadnezzar entered  that  which  he  had  so  long  besieged, 
he  found  little  there  wherewith  to  reward  his  soldiers  in 
the  spoil  of  the  place  which  they  had  so  long  laboured 
to  take,  and  therefore,  wreaking  his  anger  upon  the 
buildings,  and  the  few  inhabitants  who  were  left  in 
them,  he  razed  the  whole  town  to  the  ground,  and  slew 
all  he  found  therein.  After  this  it  never  more  recovered 
its  former  glory,  but  the  city  on  the  island  became  the 
Tyre  that  was  afterwards  so  famous  by  that  name,  the 
other  on  the  continent  never  rising  any  higher  than  to 
become  a  village  by  the  name  of  Old  Tyre."| 

•  Kitto,  V.  ii.  p.  896.  -    r  . 

f  See  Prideauz,  t.  i.  p.  114  and  128,  sqq.  The  80o£5ng8  of  the  Tyrians 
against  the  kingdoms  of  Judah  and  Israel  in  their  misfortune  had  no 
small  shore  in  calling  doyrn  the  Divine  wrath. 

X  Prideaux,  r.  i.  p.  128,— who  shows  that  the  prophecies  of  Ezekiel 
respecting  the  manner  of  the  siege  apply  only  to  the  Tyre  on  the  mainland. 
But  it  has  been  suggested  and  with  much  probability,  that,  although  the 
island  was  not  aa  yet  much  built  upon,  it  had,  for  soma  time  previous  to 
its  siege  by  Nebuohadnezsar,  been  closely  connected  with  the  old  city. 
H«Qgit«Db«rg  (D«  Rtboi  Tytumun)  thiakx  that "  th«rc  were  two  cities, 


TYRE. 


131 


Tyre  was  "forgotten  seventy  years,"  as  Isaiah  had 
foretold,  but  the  enterprising  spirit  of  its  inhabitaDts 
was  not  easily  crushed.  Of  its  irtermediate  history 
little  or  nothing  is  knoAvn,  but  when  the  Macedonian 
conqueror  appeared  before  its  walls,  it  "  surpassed  all 
other  Syro-Phoenician  cities  in  renown  and  greatness." 
A  powerful  reaction  had  restored  the  new  city  to  all 
the  forgotten  glories  of  the  ancient  one,  and  the  Tyrians 
had  not  lost  one  atom  of  the  undaunted  perseverance 
which  had  withstood  the  Assyrian  conqueror.  But 
their  obstinacy  was,  on  the  present  occasion,  matched 
by  that  of  Alexander.      *     /  j^.     ,  ^^r  r.    .  t 

The  Zidonians  yielded  readily ;  but  when  Alexander 
approached  Tyre,  the  inhabitants  sent  ambassadors  to 
him,  bearing  presents  for  himself  and  provisions  for  his 
army,  at  the  same  time  professing  their  willingness  to 
do  whatever  he  might  wish.  Alexander  simply  asked 
permission  to  enter  the  city,  and  sacrifice  to  Hercules. 

Whether  Alexander  well  knew  that  the  request  was 
one  that  would  .never  be  complied  with,  we  know  not ; 
but  it  is  certain  that  the  acknowledgment  of  his  all- 
conquering  powers,  and  the  indirect  comparison  of  his 
own  prowess  with  that  of  Hercules,  proved  most  dis- 
tasteful to  the  Tyrians,  who  unanimously  denied  him 
an  entrance.  I  will  not  repeat  any  of  the  clever  things 
which  Curtius  and  others  assert  that  Alexander  said 
upon  the  occasion,  nor  will  I  describe  any  of  the  appa- 


one  insular,  and  the  otber  on  the  mainland;  perhaps  joined  originally,  as 
long  afterwards  by  a  mole." — Encyel.  Metrop.  Early  Oriental  History,  p. 
426,  Eadie's  edition.  But  this  latter  opinion  seems  at  variance  with 
history,  which  unhesitatingly  attributes  th«  formation  of  the  mole  ta 
Al«zand«r  tho  fir«at. 


4 


:s2 


GREAT    C  TIKS    OF    THE    WORLD. 


tUions  that  favoured  his  attempts.  A  tedious  siege  of 
seven  months,  while  it  proved  that  the  refusal  of  the 
Tyrians  was  fonnded  in  the  consciousness  of  substantial 
resources,  at  the  same  time  developed  the  ingenuity  of 
the  Macedonians,  and  showed  them  that  they  had  found 
their  match.  By  means  of  a  mole,  the  island  was 
turned  into  a  peninsula,  formed  by  the  ruins  of  the  old 
city,  and  of  timber  from  the  adjacent  Mount  Libanus, 
and  thereby  rendered  accessible  to  land  forces.  And 
hereby,  at  least  in  a  secondary  sense,  were  fulfilled 
those  prophecies  which  had  said  :  "  And  they  shall  lay 
thy  stones  and  thy  timber  and  thy  dust  in  the  midst  of 
the  water,  and  thou  shalt  be  no  more :  though  thou  be 
sought  for,  yet  shalt  thou  never  be  found  again,  saith 
the  Lord  God."  So  utterly  were  the  ruins  of  Old  Tyre 
cast  into  the  sea,  that  its  exact  site  cannot  now  be 
determined. 

The  new  city,  however,  at  a  subsequent  period,  man- 
fully resisted  the  attacks  of  Antigonus,  and  the  gar- 
rison stationed  there  by  Ptolemy  was  permitted  to 
depart,  and  the  inhabitants  to  remain  unmolested. 
But  the  rivalry  of  Alexandria,  just  springing  into  poli- 
tical importance,  kept  back  the  tendency  to  recover 
which  seemed  ever  awake  in  the  active  Tyrians,  and  in 
the  time  of  Pliny  it  was  little  known,  except  for  its 
manufacture  of  purple. 

-  During  the  Crusades,  Tyre  was  beleaguered  more 
than  once,  was  the  burial-place  of  the  German  emperor 
Barbarossa,  and  remained  in  European  hands  till  A.  D. 
1291,  when  it  was  compelled  to  yield  to  the  fast  advanc- 
ing power  of  the  Moslems.  Its  splendid  fortifications 
were  utterly  demolisbed,  and  losing  its  value  as  a  strong- 


TYRE. 


133 


hold,  it  never  again  rose  into  importance.  Maundrell, 
■who  visited  it  in  1694,  gives  us  the  following  descrip- 
tion : — 

"  This  city,  standing  in  the  sea  upon  a  peninsula,  pro- 
mises at  a  distance  something  very  magnificent,  but 
when  you  come  to  it,  you  find  no  similitude  of  that 
glory  for  which  it  was  renowned  in  ancient  times,  and 
which  the  prophet  Ezekiel  describes.  On  the  north 
side  it  has  an  old  Turkish  ungarrisoned  castle,  besides 
which  you  see  nothing  here  but  a  mere  Babel  of  broken 
walls,  pillars,  vaults,  &c.,  there  being  not  so  much  as 
one  entire  house  left.  Its  present  inhabitants  are  only 
a  few  poor  wretches  harbouring  themselves  in  the  vaults, 
and  subsisting  chiefly  upon  fishing,  who  seemed  to  be 
preserved  in  this  place  by  Divine  Providence,  as  a  visible 
argument  how  God  has  fulfilled  his  word  concerning 
Tyre,  viz.,  that  it  should  be  as  the  top  of  a  rock,  a  place 
for  fishers  to  dry  their  nets  on. 

"  In  the  midst  of  the  ruins  there  stands  up  one  pile 
higher  than  the  rest,  which  is  the  east  end  of  a  grea$ 
church,  probably  of  the  cathedral  of  Tyre ;  and  why 
not  the  very  same  that  was  erected  by  its  bishop  Pauli- 
nus,  and  honoured  with  that  famous  consecration  sermon 
of  Eusebius,  recorded  by  himself ;  this  having  been  an 
archiepiscopal  see  in  the  Christian  times  ? 

"  There  being  an  old  staircase  in  this  ruin  last  men- 
tioned, I  got  up  to  the  top  of  it,  from  whence  I  had  an 
entire  prospect  of  the  island,  part  of  Tyre,  of  the  isth- 
mus, and  of  the  adjacent  shore.  I  thought  I  could, 
from  this  elevation,  discern  the  isthmus  to  be  a  soil  of  a 
different  nature  to  the  other  two,  it  lying  lower  than 
either,  and  being  covered  all  over  with  sand,  which  the 

12 


134 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


sea  casts  upou  it  as  the  tokens  of  its  natural  right  to 
a  passage  there,  from  which  it  was,  by  Alexander  the 
Great,  injuriously  excluded.  The  island  of  Tyre,  in  its 
natural  state,  seems  to  have  been  of  a  circular  figure, 
containing  not  more  than  forty  acres  of  ground.  It 
discovers  still  the  foundations  of  a  wall,  which  anciently 
encompassed  ?t  round  at  the  utmost  margin  of  the  land. 
It  makes,  with  the  isthmus,  two  large  bays,  one  on  the 
north  side,  and  the  other  on  the  south.  These  bays  are 
in  part  defended  from  the  ocean,  each  by  a  long  ridge, 
resembling  a  mole,  stretching  directly  out,  on  both  sides, 
from  the  head  of  the  island ;  but  these  ridges,  whether 
they  were  walls  or  rocks,  whether  the  work  of  art  or 
nature,  I  was  too  far  distant  to  discern." 


V  mr^^^ 


r^i 


t 


n 


Nil   tvi..',ii,        i     ' 


ROCK-HEWN  TOMB  AT  PETRA. 


rl 


PETRA. 


.■it 


IN  a  previous  publication, 
says  Mr.  Buckley,  I 
have  attempted  to  point 
out  certain  leading  fea- 
tures in  the  chanicter 
of  Jacob,  which  ren- 
dered him  especially 
suited  to  be  chosen  as  the  iniinediiito  means  of  handing 
down  God's  will  amongst  Iiis  chosen  people :  while  I 
have  also  tried  to  show  that  "  the  impetuous  and  intem- 
j;crate  spirit  of  Esau  rendered  him  little  fitted  to  lie 
the  future  progenitor  of  the  Jewish  race,  and  through 
that  race,  of  the  Saviour  of  mankind." 

The  early  history  of  these  two  brothers  is  intimately 
connected  with  a  notice  of  the  sublime  and  mysterious 
ruins  of  Petra.  The  same  wild,  restless  spirit  that  had, 
in  the  persons  of  Nimrod  and  other  early  founders  of 
cities,  led  them  to  quit  the  paternal  home,  and  seek 
\  -  12*  (137) 


138 


QKEAT   CITIES   OF   THE    WORLD. 


to  change  the  simple  innocence  of  the  patriarchal  state 
for  the  bustle  of  a  military  and  marauding  life^  to 
delve  the  rocks  into  architectural  figures,  and  rear 
palaces  that  should  one  day  rise,  as  it  were,  out  of  the 
earth,  to  bear  witness  to  the  ancient  pride  of  some  of 
her  earliest  children :  such  a  spirit  doubtless  stimulated 
the  energetic,  but  thoughtless  Esau ;  and  he  who  had 
set  little  store  by  the  best  gifts  and  choicest  honours  of 
patriarchal  primogeniture,  and  the  prophetic  benedic- 
tion of  an  aged  sire,  has  left,  in  the  sublime  monu- 
ments of  Petra,  evidences  that  the  glory  of  Edom  had 
burnt  forth  with  no  common  radiance  before  its  setting 
rays  left  nought  but  the  wandering  and  ignorant  Arabs 
to  tenant  the  deserts  that  had  usurped  the  site  of  her 
ancient  cities. 

But  although  Esau  had  lost  his  birthright,  although 
anger  and  disappointment  for  a  time  severed  him  from 
the  brother  who  had,  by  the  mysterious  forewarning 
of  God,  supplanted  him  in  attaining  those  rights  which, 
in  the  eyes  of  the  Hebrew,  were  endeared  by  the  neai  cr 
relationship  to  a  Creator,  and  the  gracious  promises  of 
that  "seed  of  woman"  who  was  hereafter  to  reconcile 
the  fallen  children  to  the  oflFended  Sire ;  although  ho 
had  even  conceived  the  desire  of  fatally  revenging  tho 
fraud  by  which  he  was  so  great  a  suflferer,  the  natural 
generosity  and  disinterestedness  of  the  Eastern  chief 
prevailed:  and  when  he  met  his  timid  and  distressed 
brother,  "  Esau  fell  on  his  neck,  and  kissed  him,  and 
they  wept."  Viewed  apart  from  considerations  to  which 
I  have  already  alluded,  the  character  of  Esau  appears 
to  much  greater  advantage  than  that  of  his  brother ; 
and  •  subsequent   traditions,   little   agreeing  with   the 


PETRA. 


t  » 


189 


statements  of  the  scriptural  narrative,  have  done  little 
justice  to  the  manful  and  generous,  though  thoughtless 
character  of  the  founder  of  the  race  of  Edom. 

But  his  greatest  offence — the  offence  which  had  most 
influence  in  severing  him  from  the  communion  of  God's 
chosen  people — was  his  marriage  with  two  CanaanitisL. 
women.  From  these  nuptials,  the  Nabatheans  and 
Tcmanites  sprung. 

Of  the  subsequent  history  of  Esau,  scripture  says 
little,  but  the  progress  of  his  descendants  is  traced 
with  tolerable  distinctness.  The  llorira,  the  ancient 
inhabitants  of  the  district  of  Mount  Seir,  were  gra- 
dually extirpated :  and  their  cavern  dwellings,  which 
had  furnished  a  shelter  against  the  excessive  heat  of 
the  sun,  became  the  lodgings,  tombs,  and  temples  of 
his  Edomite  descendants. 

The  term  "Duke,"  which  has  been  applied  in  our 
own  version  of  the  Scriptures  to  the  chieftains  who 
ruled  over  the  Edomites,  is  unfortunate  in  conveying 
a  feudal  title  of  nobility  in  lieu  of  a  patriarchal  arrange- 
ment by  which  each  family  was  subject  to  its  own  head, 
while  a  certain  number  of  families  were  again  obedient 
to  a  common  chief.  But,  in  process  of  time,  these 
systems  gave  way  to  the  kingly  power ;  for  when  the 
Israelites  applied  for  permission  to  pass  through  the 
land  of  Edom,  their  request  was  addressed  to  the  king 
of  that  country ;  and  the  road  by  which  they  sought  to 
traverse  h  spoken  of  as  "  the  king's  highway."  Hence, 
it  has  justly  been  inferred  that  the  change  from  the 
patriarchal  system  had  taken  place  during  the  wander- 
ings of  the  Israelites  in  the  desert.  It  must  be  remem- 
bered,  however,   that   in    some   instances    the    early 


140 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE    WORLD. 


i 


authority  of  kings,  as  of  Saul  over  the  Jews,  does  not 
so  much  interfere  with,  as  systematically  and  firmly 
organise,  the  existing  state  of  things.  Among  a  hardy 
and  independent  race  like  the  descendants  of  Esau,  an 
uncontrolled  and  oppressive  monarchy  would  have  been 
well  nigh  impossible. 

The  fraternal  feud  which  had  developed  itself  so 
early  in  the  supplanting  of  Esau,  raged  hotly  between 
the  descendants  of  the  brothers :  the  territory  of 
Idumaea  became  more  and  more  subject  to  the  descen- 
dants of  Jacob.  Petra,  or  rather  Selah,  the  "  city  of 
the  rock,"  was  finally  conquered  by  Amaziah,  who 
changed  its  name  to  Joktheel,  significantly  pointing 
out  the  Divine  influence  that  had  thus  verified  the 
saying,  that  "the  elder  should  serve  the  younger." 
For  a  time,  however,  it  recovered  its  old  name,  until 
this  gave  way  to  the  Roman  translation  of  it — Petra. 

The  earliest  notice  in  pagan  history  mentions  two 
expeditions  sent  by  Antigonus  against  the  Nabathjeans 
in  Petra ;  and  Strabo,  Pliny,  and  Josephus  mention  and 
describe  this  city  as  forming  the  capital  of  Arabia 
Petraea.  Under  the  reign  of  Trajan,  when  the  whole 
district  formed  a  Roman  province,  the  building  of 
Petra  probably  received  some  of  the  embellishments 
which  Roman  art  has  engrafted  on  the  magnificence 
of  their  original  structure ;  and  the  fact  that  many 
coins  have  been  discovered,  bearing  the  names  of  his 
successor,  Hadrian,  shows  that  it  was  not  neglected. 
It  appears  as  the  metropolitan  see  of  the  third  Pales- 
tine, in  the  ecclesiastical  notices  of' the  fifth  and  sixth 
centuries ;  but  here  all  mention  of  it  ends.  It  is  true 
that  writers,  during  the  era  of  the  Crusades,  make  use 


PETRA. 


141 


of  the  name,  but  they  erred  in  applying  it  to  Kerek: 
a  mistake  which  the  researches  of  Burckhardt,  after  a 
long  lapse  of  centuries,  has  but  lately  fully  rectified. 
Although  hindered  by  the  officious  and  harassing  inter- 
ference of  the  Bedouin  Arabs,  this  enlightened  and 
indefatigable  traveller  succeeded  in  obtaining  sufficient 
data  to  warrant  the  conjecture  which  subsequent  criti- 
cism, under  better  opportunities,  has  fully  and  satisfac- 
torily established. 

About  two  long  days  journey  north-east  from  Akaba, 
is  a  rivulet  and  valley  in  the  Djebel-Shera,  on  the  east 
side  of  the  Araba,  called  Wadi  Mousa. 

"  In  the  red  sandstone,"  says  Burckhardt,  "  of  which 
the  valley  is  composed,  are  upwards  of  two  hundred 
and  fifty  sepulchres,  entirely  cut  out  of  the  rock,  the 
greater  part  of  them  with  Grecian  ornaments.  There 
is  a  mausoleum,  in  the  shape  of  a  temple,  of  colossal 
dimensions,  likewise  cut  out  of  the  rock,  with  all  its 
apartments,  its  vestibule,  peristyle,  &c.  It  is  a  most 
beautiful  specimen  of  Grfician  architecture,  and  in  per- 
fect preservation.  There  are  other  mausolea,  with 
obelisks,  apparently  in  the  Egyptian  style :  a  whole 
amphitheatre  cut  out  of  the  rock,  with  the  remains  of 
a  palace  and  of  several  temples.  Upon  the  summit  of 
the  mountain  which  closes  the  nairow  A-^alley  on  its 
western  side,  is  the  tomb  of  Ilaroun  (Aaron,  brother 
of  Moses).  It  is  held  in  great  veneration  by  the  Arabs. 
(If  I  recollect  right,  there  is  a  passage  in  Eusebius,  in 
which  he  says  that  the  tomb  of  Aaron  was  situated 
near  Petra.)  The  information  of  Pliny  and  Strabo, 
on  thj  site  of  Petra,  agree  with  the  position  of  Wadi 
Mousa." 


142 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


i   t 


i 


Froiti  the  ample  materials  collected  by  Dr.  Robinson, 
a  recent  editor  of  Calinet,  the  following  amusing  and 
circumstantial  account  of  researches,  corroborating  the 
previous  ones  of  Burckhardt,  is  derived : — 

"Passing  on  by  Roman  ruins,  and  occasionally 
Roman  roads,  Mr.  Legh  arrived  at  Shubac,  the  20th 
of  May.  '  On  the  23rd,  the  sheikh  of  Shubac,  Ma- 
homet Ebu-Raschid,  arrived,  and  with  him  also  oame 
the  sheikh  Abou-Zeitun  (father  of  the  olive-tree),  the 
governor  of  Wadi  Mousa.  The  latter  proved  after- 
wards our  most  formidable  enemy,  and  we  were  in- 
debted to  the  courage  and  unyielding  spirit  of  the 
former,  for  the  accomplishment  of  our  journey,  and  the 
sight  of  the  wonders  of  Petra.  When  we  related  to 
the  two  sheikhs,  who  had  just  entered  the  camp,  our 
eager  desire  to  be  permitted  to  proceed,  Abou-Zeitun 
swore,  "by  the  beard  of  the  prophet,  and  by  the 
Creator,  that  the  Caffrers,  or  infidels,  should  not  come 
into  his  country."  Mahomet  Ebu-Raschid  as  warmly 
supported  them,  and  '  now  there  arose  a  great  dispute 
between  the  two  sheikhs,  in  the  tent,  which  assumed  a 
serious  aspect :  the  sheikh  of  Wadi  Mousa,  at  length 
started  up,  vowed  that  if  we  should  dare  to  pass  through 
his  lands,  we  should  be  shot  like  so  many  dogs.  Our 
friend  Mahomet  mounted,  and  desired  us  to  follow  his 
example,  which,  when  he  saw  we  had  done,  he  grasped 
his  spear  and  fiercely  exclaimed,  '  I  have  set  them  on 
their  horses;  let  me  see  who  dare  stop  Ebu-Raschid  ' 
We  rode  along  a  valley,  the  people  of  Wadi  Mousa, 
with  their  sheikh  at  their  head,  continuing  on  the  high 
ground  to  the  left  in  a  parallel  direction,  watching  our 
movements.     In  half  an  hour  we  halted  at  a  spring, 


I# 


PGtRA. 


A 


>  ri.i^  i^i- 


145 


and  were  joined  by  about  twenty  horsemen,  provided 
with  lances,  and  thirty  men  on  foot  with  matchlock 
guns,  and  a  few  double-mounted  dromedaries,  whose 
riders  were  well  armed.  On  the  arrival  of  this  rein- 
forcement, the  chief,  Ebu-Raschid,  took  an  oath  in  the 
presence  of  his  Arabs,  swearing,  "  by  the  honour  of 
their  women,  and  by  the  beard  of  the  prophet,  that 
we,"  pointing  to  our  party,  "  should  drink  of  the  waters 
of  Wadi  Mousa,  and  go  wherever  we  pleased  in  their 
accursed  country."  '  Soon  after  they  left  the  ravine, 
the  rugged  peak  of  Mount  Ilor  was  seen  towering  over 
the  dark  mountains  on  their  right,  with  Petra  under  it, 
and  Djebeltour,  or  Mount  Sinai,  distant  three  days  jour- 
ne}-,  like  a  cone  in  the  horizon.  They  reached  Ebu- 
Raschid's  camp,  of  about  seven  tents  (usually  twenty- 
five  feet  long  and  fourteen  feet  wide),  in  three  circles, 
and  next  morning  attempted,  but  in  vain,  to  obtain  the 
consent  of  the  hostile  sheikh  to  pass  through  his  terri- 
tory. They  did  not,  however,  come  to  blows ;  and  at 
length  they  passed  the  much-contested  stream,  on  which 
stood  the  mud  village  of  Wadi  Mousa :  Ebu-Raschid, 
with  an  air  of  triumph,  insisting  on  watering  the  horses 
at  that  rivulet. 

" '  While  we  halted  for  that  purpose,  we  examined 
a  sepulchre  excavated  on  the  right  of  the  road.  It 
was  of  considerable  dimensions :  and  at  the  entrance 
of  the  open  court  that  led  to  the  inner  chamber  were 
represented  two  animals  resembling  lions  or  sphinxes, 
but  much  disfigured,  of  colossal  size.  As  this  was  the 
first  object  of  curiosity  that  presented  itself,  we  began 
to  measure  its  dimensions ;  but  our  guides  grew  impa- 
tient, and  said,  that  if  we  intended  to  be  so  accurate 

13 


I,'  n 

m 


# 


146 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


'V 


in  our  survey  of  all  the  extraordinary  places  we  should 
see,  we  should  not  finish  in  ten  thousand  years.'  9?hey 
therefore  remounted  and  rode  on  through  niches  sculp- 
tured in  the  rocks,  frequent  representations  of  rude 
stones,  mysterious  sytohols  of  an  indefinite  figure  de- 
tached in  relief,  water-courses  of  earthen  pipes,  arches, 
aqueducts,  and  all  the  signs  of  a  wonderful  period  in 
the  ancient  annals  of  this  memorable  scene.  *We 
continued  (says  the  narrative)  to  explore  the  gloomy 
winding  passage  for  the  distance  of  about  two  miles, 
gradually  descending,  when  the  beautiful  fagade  of  a 
temple  burst  upon  our  view.  A  statue  of  Victory  with 
wings  filled  the  centre  of  an  aperture  like  an  attic 
window,  while  groups  of  colossal  figures,  representing 
a  centaur  and  a  young  man,  were  placed  on  each  side 
of  a  portico  of  lofty  proportion,  comprising  two  stories, 
aud  deficient  in  nothing  but  a  single  column.  The 
temple  was  entirely  excavated  from  the  solid  rock,  and 
jpreserved  from  the  ravages  of  time  and  the  weather  by 
the  massive  projections  of  the  natural  cliffs  above,  in 
a  state  of  exquisite  and  inconceivable  perfection ;  but 
the  interior  chambers  were  comparatively  small,  and 
appeared  unworthy  of  so  magnificent  a  portico.  On 
the  summit  of  the  front  was  placed  a  vase,  hewn  also 
out  of  the  solid  rock,  conceived  by  tlie  Arabs  to  be 
filled  with  the  most  valuable  treasure,  and  showing, 
in  the  numerous  shot-marks  on  its  exterior,  so  many 
proofs  of  their  avidity  ;  for  it  is  so  situated  as  to  be  inac- 
cessible to  other  attacks.  This  was  the  husna  or  trea- 
sure of  Pharaoh,  as  it  is  called  by  the  natives,  Avhich 
Ebr  Raschid  swore  we  should  behold.'  A  colossal 
vase,  belonging,  probably,  to  another  temple,  was  seen 


.♦. 


PKTRA. 


147 


by  Captains  Irby  and  Mangles,  at  some  distance  to  the 
westward ;  and  many  excavated  chambers  were  found 
in  front  of  this  temple  of  Victory.  About  three  hun- 
dred yards  farther  on  Avas  an  amphitheatre:  *  Thirty- 
three  steps  (grandini)  were  to  be  counted ;  but,  unfor- 
tunately, the  proscenium,  not  having  been  excavated 
like  the  other  parts,  but  built,  was  in  ruins.'  The 
remains  of  a  palace,  and  immense  numbers  of  bricks, 
tiles,  &c.,  presented  themselves  on  a  largo  open  space, 
while  '  the  rocks  which  enclosed  it  on  all  sides,  with 
the  exception  of  the  north-cast,  were  hollowed  out  into 
innumerable  chambers  of  different  dimensions,  whose 
entrances  were  variously,  richly,  and  often  fantastically 
decorated  with  every  imaginable  order  of  architec- 
ture.' " 

"Nothing,"  says  another  traveller,  "contributes  so 
much  to  the  almost  magical  effect  of  some  of  these 
monuments  as  the  rich  and  various  colours  of  the  rock 
out  of  which,  or  more  properly,  in  which  they  are 
formed.  Many  of  these  are  adorned  with  such  a  pro- 
fusion of  the  most  lovely  and  brilliant  colours,  as  I 
believe  it  is  quite  impossible  to  describe :  red,  purple, 
yellow,  azure  or  sky-blue,  black,  and  white,  are  seen 
in  the  same  mass  directly  in  successive  layers,  or 
blended  so  as  to  form  every  shade  and  hue  of  which 
they  are  capable — as  brilliant  and  as  soft  as  they  ever 
appear  in  flowers,  or  in  the  plumage  of  birds,  or  in  the 
sky  when  illuminated  by  the  most  glorious  sunset. 
The  red  perpetually  shades  into  pale  or  deep  rose,  or 
flesh  colour.  The  purple  is  sometimes  very  dark,  and 
again  approaches  the  hue  of  the  lilac  or  violet.  The 
white,  which  is  often  as  pure  as  snow,  is  occasionally 


148 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


just  dashed  wi^h  blue  or  red.  The  blue  is  usually  the 
pale  azure  of  the  clear  sky,  or  of  the  ocean,  but  some- 
times has  the  deep  and  peculiar  shape  of  the  clouds  in 
summer  when  agitated  by  a  tempest." 

In  this  valley  of  wonders,  in  this  excavated  city, 
where  the  glories  of  the  palace,  and  the  pomp  of  the 
temple  mingle  with  the  corruption  of  tombs,  and  the 
desolation  formed  hy  the  ruins  of  dwellings,  once  rife 
with  art  and  industry — in  this  desert  of  civilization, 
studded  with  the  monuments  of  a  race  of  heroes,  .vhose 
structures  attracted  the  notice  and  sought  restoration  at 
the  hands  of  the  Romans — here,  in  the  midst  of  a  ruined 
city  that  Nature  seems  to  have  sought  to  shield  from 
desolation  by  an  insuperable  barrier  of  mountains,  be- 
neath the  fagade  of  the  temple  where  thousands  wor- 
shipped, on  tho  benches  of  the  theatre,  where  a  like 
number  laughed  away  the  hour  that  might  never  return, 
or  in  the  recesses  of  those  caverns,  which  received  all 
the  flower  of  Edom — save  those  whose  bones  whitened 
on  the  battle  field — here  may  we  pause  awhile,  and 
listen  to  the  voice,  which  forewarned  the  children  of 
Esau  of  their  doom — hore  may  we  lament  over  one  more 
instance  of  the  vanity  of  man  rearing  up  the  proudest 
monuments  of  his  disobedience  and  humiliation. 

"  I  will  bring  the  calamity  of  Esau  upon  him,  tho 
time  that.  I  will  visit  him.  If  grape-gatherers  come  to 
thee,  would  they  not  leave  some  gleaning  grapes  ?  if 
thieves  by  night,  they  will  destroy  till  they  have  enough. 
But  I  have  made  Esau  bare,  I  have  uncovered  his  secret 
places,  and  he  shall  not  be  able  to  hide  himself.  Be- 
hold they  whose  judgment  was  not  to  drink  of  the  cup 
have  assuredly  drunken ;  and  art  thou  he  that  ghail 


f\ 


PETRA. 


149 


altogether  go  unpunished  ?  thou  shalt  not  go  unpunished, 
but  thou  shnlt  surely  drink  of  it.  I  have  sworn  by  my- 
self, saith  the  Lord,  that  Bozrah,  the  strong  city,  shall 
become  a  desolation,  a  reproach,  a  waste,  and  a  curse ; 
and  all  the  cities  thereof  shall  be  perpetual  wastes. 
Lo,  I  will  make  thee  small  among  the  heathen,  and 
despised  among  men.  Thy  terribleness  hath  deceived 
thee,  and  the  pride  of  thine  heart,  0  thou  that  dwellest 
in  the  clefts  of  the  rock,  that  boldest  the  height  of  the 
hill :  though  thou  shouldst  make  thy  nest  as  high  as 
the  eagle,  I  will  bring  thee  down  from  thence,  saith  the 
Lord.  Also  Edom  shall  be  a  desolation;  every  one 
that  goeth  by  it  shall  be  astonished,  and  shall  hiss  at 
all  the  plagues  thereof.  As  in  the  overthrow  of  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah,  and  the  neighbour  cities  thereof,  saith 
the  Lord,  no  man  shall  abide  there,  neither  shall  a  son 
of  man  dwell  in  it."  "Thou  shalt  be  desolate,  0 
Mount  Seir,  and  all  Idumea,  even  all  of  it :  and  they 
shall  know  that  I  am  the  Lord."  "Edom  shall  be  a 
desolate  wilderness."  "For  three  transgressions  of 
Edom,  and  for  four,  I  will  not  turn  away  the  punish- 
ment thereof."  "Thus  saith  the  Lord  concerning 
Edom,  I  have  made  thee  small  among  the  heathen,  thou 
art  greatly  despised.  The  pride  of  thine  heart  hath 
deceived  thee,  thou  that  dwellest  in  the  clefts  of  the 
rock,  whose  habitation  is  high."  "  Shall  I  not  destroy 
the  wise  men  out  of  Edom,  and  understanding  out 
of  the  mount  of  Esau  ?  The  house  of  Jacob  shall  pos- 
sess their  possessions."*  "  I  laid  the  mountains  of  Esau 
and  his  heritage  waste  for  the  dragons  of  the  wilder- 
ness." 

Complete  and  melancholy  as  is  the  ruin  that  altesits 

13* 


150 


GRE.VT  ClTirs  OF  TIIF,  AVORLD. 


\ 


the  fulfilment  of  the  "burden  of  Edom,"  forgotten  and 
unclaimed  (even  by  the  barbarians  that  infest  the  dis- 
trict) as  are  the  edifices  which  cover  and  surround  the 
gloomy  valley  of  death  that  even  Roman  magnificence 
once  admired  for  the  splendour  of  its  structures,  careful 
investigation  has  shown  that  I'etra,  in  its  prosperous 
days,  might  once  have  contained  a  population  equal  to 
that  of  Athens.     But  while  we  cannot  deny  the  elabo- 
rate magnificence  and  wondrous  toil  which  has  exca- 
vated the  rocks  of  the  Edomite  Selah  into  a  city  of 
wonders,  we  must  remember  that  it  is  extremely  diflBlcult, 
perhaps  impossible,  to  assign  each  building,  or  rather, 
the  improvements  and  alterations  which  the  buildings 
have  undergone,  to  their  proper  ages.     The  mixture 
of  orders  is  alone  suflScient  to  show  the  modifications 
through  which  Petra  has  passed ;  and  it  is  for  this  rea- 
son that  I  shall  pay  more  minute  attention  to  th°i  tombs 
hewn  in  the  rocks,  the  extent  of  which  is  only  surpassed 
by  the  symmetry  of  their  proportions  and  their  f  tnesa 
for  the  melancholy  ofiice  to  which  they  were  destined. 
After  the  Creator  had  doomed  tlie  fallen  Adam  to 
return  to  the  dust  from  whence  and  of  which  he  came 
— a  doom  in  which  all  his  helpless,  yet  not  uncarod-for 
descendants  were  to  participate — man,  weeping  ever 
the   dearly-cherished,    but   disfigured   and   corrupting 
remains  of  those  he  had  once  loved,  sought  to  lay  their 
corses  in  the  earth,  which  seemed  to  open  her  bosom  to 
receive  once  more  those  who  had  been  fed  by  her  gifts. 
Whether  in  the  burrows  of  our  own  ancestors,  or  in  the 
cave  whicli  the  chosen  of  patriarchs  purchased  as  a 
sepulchre  for  liis  Mifc,  nnd  which  remained  as  an  heir- 
loom for  the  heads  of  siiccocding  generations — the  earth 


PEIRA. 


■*' 


Ul 


ever  daiitis  her  own.  Hence,  as  a  taste  for  sculpture, 
and  a  greater  earnestness  in  labours  of  art  developed 
themselves — artificial  caves  became  the  cemeterieB  of 
the  dead,  and  in  the  rock  tombs  of  Petra,  as  in  those 
of  Porsepolis,  wc  read  the  fulfilment  of  the  same  sad, 
but  instructive  prophecy. 

^  "Were  those  excavations,"  says  Dr.  Kitto,  "instead 
of  following  all  the  sinuosities  of  the  mountain  and  its 
numerous  gorges,  ranged  in  regular  order,  they  pro- 
bably would  form  a  strccc  not  less  than  five  or  six  miles 
in  length.  They  are  often  seen  rising  one  above  an- 
other in  the  face  of  the  cliff,  and  coi  venicnt  steps, 
now  much  worn,  cut  in  the  rock,  load  ia  all  directions 
through  the  fissures,  and  along  the  sides  of  the  mount- 
ains to  the  various  tombs  that  occupy  these  lofty  posi- 
tions. Some  of  them  are  apparently  not  less  than 
from  two  hundred  to  three  or  four  hundred  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  valley.  Conspicuous  situations,  visible 
from  below,  were  generally  chosen ;  but  sometimes  t^ie 
opposite  taste  prevailed,  and  the  most  secluded  cliffs, 
fronting  to  some  dark  ravine,  and  quite  hidden  from  t^e 
gaze  of  the  multitude,  were  preferred.  The  flights  of 
steps,  all  cut  in  the  solid  rock,  are  almost  innumerable, 
and  they  ascend  to  great  heights,  as  well  as  in  all 
directions.  Sometimes  the  connection  with  the  city  is 
interrupted,  and  one  sees  in  a  gorge,  or  upon  the  face 
of  a  cliff,  fifty  or  a  hundred  feet  above  him,  a  long 
series  of  steps  rising  from  the  edge  of  an  inaccessible 
precipice.  The  action  of  winter  torrents,  and  other 
agencies,  have  worn  the  easy  ascent  into  a  channel  for 
the  waters,  and  thus  interrupted  the  communic»tion. 
,    "The  bituations  of  these  excavations  arc  not  more 


162 


OIIEAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


Tarious  than  their  forms  and  'limensions.  Mere  nichu 
are  Bometimcs  cut  in  the  face  of  the  rock,  of  little 
depth,  and  of  various  sizes  and  forms,  of  ^hich  it  is 
difiScult  to  conjecture  the  objoct,  unless  they  had  some 
connection  with  votive  offerinf^s  and  religious  rites.  By 
far  the  largest  number  of  excavations  were  manifestly 
designed'as  places  for  the  interment  of  the  dead;  and 
thus  exhibit  a  variety  in  form  and  size,  of  interior 
arrangement  and  external  decorations,  adapted  to  tho 
different  fortunes  of  their  occupants,  and  conformable 
to  the  prevailing  tastes  of  the  times  in  which  they  were 
made.  There  are  many  tombs  consisting  of  a  single 
chamber,  ten,  fifteen,  or  twenty  feet  square,  by  ten  or 
twelve  in  height,  containing  a  recess  in  the  wall  large 
enough  to  receive  one  or  a  few  deposits  ;  sometimes  on 
a  level  with  the  floor,  at  others  one  or  two  feet  above 
it,  and  not  unfrequently  near  the  ceiling,  at  the  height 
of  eight  or  ten  feet.  Occasionally,  oblong  pits  or  graves 
are  sunk  in  the  recesses,  or  in  the  floor  of  the  principal 
apartment.  Some  of  these  are  of  considerable  depth, 
but  they  are  mostly  choked  with  stones  and  rubbish,  so 
that  it  is  impossible  to  ascertain  it.  In  these  plebeian 
tombs,  there  is  commonly  a  door  of  small  dimensions, 
and  an  absence  of  all  architectural  decorations ;  in 
some  of  larger  dimensions,  there  are  several  recesses 
occupying  two  or  three  sides  of  the  apartment.  These 
seem  to  have  been  formed  for  family  tombs.  Besides 
these  unadorned  habitations  of  the  humble  dead,  there 
is  a  vast  number  of  excavations  enriched  with  various 
architectural  ornaments.  To  these  unique  and  sump> 
tuous  monuments  of  the  taste  of  one  of  the  most  ancient 
races  of  men  with  whom  history  has  made  us  acquainted. 


PLTRA. 


168 


Petra  h  indebted  for  its  great  and  peculiar  attractionf. 
This  ornamental  architecture  is  wholly  confined  to  the 
front,  while  the  interior  is  quite  plain  and  destitute  of 
uU  decoration.  Pass  the  threshold,  and  nothing  is  scon 
but  perpendicular  walls,  bearing  the  marks  of  the  chisel, 
without  mouldings,  columns,  or  any  species  of  orna> 
went.  But  the  exteriors  of  these  primitive,  and  even 
rude  apartments,  exhibit  soi^p  of  the  most  beautiful  and 
imposing  results  of  ancient  taste  and  skill,  which  have 
remained  to  our  times.  The  front  of  the  mountain  is 
wrought  into  fagades  of  splendid  temples,  rivalling  ia 
their  aspect  and  symmetry  the  most  celebrated  monu- 
ments of  Grecian  art.  Columns  of  various  orders, 
graceful  pediments,  broad  rich  entablatures,  and  some- 
times statuary,  all  hewn  out  of  the  solid  rock,  and  still 
forming  part  of  the  native  mass,  transform  the  base  of 
the  mountain  into  a  vast  splendid  pile  of  architecture ; 
while  the  overhanging  cliffs,  towering  above  in  shapes 
as  rugged  and  wild  as  any  on  which  the  eye  ever 
rested,  form  the  most  striking  and  curious  of  contrasts. 
In  most  instances  it  is  impossible  to  assign  these  beau- 
tiful facades  to  any  particular  style  of  architecture. 
Many  of  the  columns  resemble  those  of  the  Corinthian 
order;  but  they  deviate  so  far  both  in  their  forms 
and  ornaments  from  this  elegant  model,  that  it  would 
be  impossible  to  rank  them  in  the  class.  A  few  are 
Doric,  which  are  precisely  those  that  have  suficrcd 
most  from  the  ravages  of  time,  and  are  probably  veiy 
ancient." 


THE  ROCK-HEWN  CITIES  OF  INDU. 

-OME  apology  is  due  tw  the 
reader,  for  abruptly  con- 
voying him  into  the  region 
of  IJonibay,  and  the  })i(- 
turosfjiio  details  ^ith  which  1  hope 
to  present  him  will  scarcely  excuse 
the  Hoeuiinfr  eccentricity  of  so  r!i])id 
a  transportation.  But  we  have 
just  been  dwelling  on  tl'.e  beiint-i(S 
<  F  Petrn,  and,  jiided  ])y  the  experienced  pen  of  vye- 
witnesses  nnd  coiinoi^seuTs,  we  have  sought  to  form  a. 
jnSc  nppreciation  <  I'  the  p.iip-hty  v,(tn.ders  of  the  rooh- 
city,  to  penetviite  into  the  stiihiess  of  her  tombs,  lo 
pace  the  courl*  of  \:\>v  trmples.  nnd  to  nisvivrl  ;ii  the 
utter  (ii'-r!-:'c!i(.n   oi"  loo  li.io  "f  Ui<.  w  \\h<'>  ci.^-ollcd  iho 


* 


1^ 


Vi 


<i^ 


THE  ROCK-HEWN  CITIES  Or  INDIA. 


167 


amphitheatre  of  the  mighty  valley  into  forms  that,  both 
for  grandeur  of  dimension  and  beauty  of  finish,  rival 
our  own  proudest  structures.  But  no  better  parallel 
(however  historically  remote)  can  be  formed  to  the 
rock-city  of  Arabia-Petraea,  than  the  wondrous  region 
of  rock-hewn  temples,  Tvhich  extends  through  so  large 
a  portion  of  India  as  we  are  now  about  to  describe 
Although  their  antiquity  is  comparatively  mode**ate, 
although  very  irregular  and  uncertain  estimates  have 
been  formed  of  their  architectural  merits,  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that,  if  their  extent  alone  be  taken  as  a 
standard  of  our  admiration,  they  must  take  a  high 
place  among  the  sublimest  proofs  of  man's  ill-directed 
labours  in  honour  of  a  false  belief ;  and,  in  this  respect, 
the  ruins  of  Indian  temples  belong  as  much  to  our  plan, 
and  are  as  fraught  with  v/holssome  lessons  of  morality, 
as  the  fragments  which  bear  witness  to  the  downfall  of 
Assyrian  greatness. 

Although,  in  discussing  the  subject  of  Indian  wor- 
ship, the  structures  to  which  it  gave  rise,  and  the 
symbolism  in  which  it  sought  to  embody  its  principles, 
we  cannot  be  sufficiently  careful  to  avoid  falling  into  a 
too  ready  taste  for  parallelism  with  Greek  or  Oriental 
analogies — yet  we  must  recognise  one  common  feature 
throughout  the  world ;  and  that  is,  that  the  greatness 
of  a  nation  generally  attests  its  culmination  in  the 
edifices  it  rears  in  the  cause  of  religion.  Even  in  the 
middle  ages,  the  prowess  of  the  warrior,  the  successful 
diplomacy  of  the  courtier,  and  frequently  the  private 
prosperity  of  an  individual,  have  displayed  themselves 
in  the  founding  and  endowing  of  religious  establish- 
ments.    Obscure  as  are  the  annals  of  Egypt,  history  is 

14 


-■-* 


I  i 


158 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


uftvarying  in  placing  the  epoch  rf  ita  greatest  work  as 
coeval  with  its  proudest  prosperity.  Examples,  already 
numerously  instanced  in  this  little  volume,  are  sufficient 
to  show  that  the  cave  temples  ' ''  India  belong  to  an 
era  of  her  greatness — to  the  re?  ^r  .nd  career  of  a  race 
of  whom  we  have  not  even  a  '■■  ici.:  page  of  tradition ; 
and,  although  we  know  nothing  of  the  history  of  their 
founders,  we  must  judge  of  the  artist  by  the  picture, 
and  imagine  the  Hindoos  of  old,  from  the  structures 
that  once  called  them  their  masters. 

As  we  can  give  little  or  nothing  of  an  historical 
character,  in  connection  with  these  excavations,  we 
must  content  ourselves  with  describing,  as  far  as  we 
are  able,  the  magnificent  ruins  which  remain  to  attest 
the  progress  and  influence  of  Buddhism.  •- 

One  of  the  earliest  Indian  monuments  that  attracted 
the  notice  of  European  travellers,  was  the  cave-templo 
of  Elephanta,  situated  in  a  beautiful  island  of  the  same 
name.  This  island  lies  in  the  Bay  of  Bombay,  seven 
miles  from  Bombay  Castle ;  it  measures  about  six  miles 
in  circumference,  being  composed  of  two  long  hills 
enclosing  a  narrow  valley.  The  island  has  taken  its 
popular  name  ifom  a  colossal  statue  of  an  elephant, 
cut  out  of  a  detached  mass  of  blackish  rock,  and  sup- 
porting another  smaller  figure,  probably  that  of  a  tiger, 
on  its  back.  The  length  of  this  colossus,  which  mea- 
sures thirteen  feet  two  inches,  from  the  forehead  to  the 
root  of  the  tail,  stands  about  250  vards  to  the  right  of 
the  landing-place  on  the  southern  part  of  the  island. 

After  proceeding  up  the  valley  for  some  distance, 
the  mountains  unite,  and  we  find  ourselves  ia  the 
middle  of  a  narrow  path ;  after  ascending  which,  we 


THE  ROCK-HEWN  CITIES  OF  INDIA. 


159 


enjoy  at  the  summit  a  beautiful  prospect  of  the  north- 
ern part  of  the  island,  and  the  opposite  shores  of  its 
neighbour,  Salsette.  Then,  in  the  words  of  Mr* 
Erskine, — 

"  Advancing  forward,  and  keeping  to  the  left  along 
the  bend  of  the  hill,  '•.ve  gradually  mount  to  an  open 
space,  and  come  suddenly  on  the  grand  entrance  of  a 
magnificent  temple,  whose  huge  massy  columns  seera 
to  give  support  to  the  whole  mountain  which  rises 
above  it.      '  •         ;  > 

"  The  entrance  into  this  temple,  which  is  entirely 
hewn  out  of  a  stone  resembling  porphyry,  is  by  a  spa- 
cious front  supported  by  two  massive  pillars  and  two 
pilasters,  forming  three  openings,  under  a  thick  and 
steep  rock  overhung  by  brushwoo'd  and  wild  shrubs. 
Thy  long  ranges  of  columns  that  appear  closing  in 
perspective  on  every  side — the  flat  roof  of  solid  rock 
fliat  seems  to  be  prevented  from  falling  only  by  the 
massy  pillars,  whose  capitals  are  pressed  down  and 
flattened  as  if  by  the  superincumbent  weight — the 
darkness  that  obscures  the  interior  of  the  temple,  which 
is  dimly  lighted  only  by  the  entrances  ;  and  the  gloomy 
appearance  of  the  gigantic  stone  figures  ranged  along 
the  wall,  and  hewn,  like  the  whole  temple,  out  of  the 
living  rock,  joined  to  the  fitrange  uncertainty  that  bangs 
over  the  history  of  this  place — carry  the  mind  back  to 
distant  periods,  and  impress  it  with  that  kind  of  un- 
certain religious  awe  with  which  the  grander  works  of 
ages  of  darkness  are  gcucrally  contemplated. 

"  The  whole  excavation  consists  of  three  principal 
parts:  the  great  temple  itself,  which  is  in  the  centre; 
and  two  smaller  chapels,  one  on  each  side  of  the  great 


IM 


m'\ 


160 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WOULD. 


temple.  These  two  chapels  do  not  come  forward  in 
a  straight  line  with  the  front  of  the  ciiicf  temple,  are 
not  perceived  on  approaching  the  temple,  and  are 
considerably  in  recess,  being  upproii  .hod  hy  two  narrow 
passes  in  the  hill,  one  on  eata  side  of  the  grand  en- 
trance,  but  at  some  distance  from  it.  After  advoncing 
to  some  distance  up  these  confined  pui<ses,  we  find  each 
of  them  conduct  to  another  front  of  the  grand  excava- 
tion, exactly  like  the  principal  front  which  is  first  seen; 
all  the  thicc  fionts  bein-?  hollowed  out  of  tne  solid  rock, 
and  each  consisting  of  two  huge  pillars  with  two  pilafe- 
tera.  The  two  side  'ronts  are  precisely  opposite  to 
each  other  on  the  east  and  west,  the  grand  entrance 
facing  the  north.  The  two  wings  of  the  temple  are  at 
the  upper  end  of  these  passages,  rind  are  close  by  the 
grand  excavation,  but  bavo  no  covered  passage  to  con- 
nect them  with  it." 

la  the  neighbouring  island  of  Salsette,  there  are 
excavations  on  a  grander  scale.  To  the  enlightened 
and  tasteful  pen  of  Bishop  Ilcber,  we  are  indebted  for 
the  following  elaborate  account  of  the  grand  temples 
of  Kennery  i — 

"  These  are,  certainly,  in  every  way  remarkable 
from  their  number,  their  beautiful  situation,  their 
elaborate  carvings,  and  their  marked  connection  with 
Buddha  and  his  religion.  The  caves  are  scattered 
over  tAvo  sides  of  a  high  rocky  Ijill,  at  many  different 
elevations,  and  of  various  sizes  and  forms.  Most  of 
them  appear  to  have  lieen  places  of  habitation  for 
monks  or  hermits.  One  very  beautiful  apartment,  of 
a  square  form,  its  walls  covered  with  sculpture,  and 
surrounded  internally  by  a  broad  stone  bench,  is  called 


TIIK   ROCK-HEWN   CITIES   OP  INDIA. 


161 


Hhe  durbar;'  but  I  sliould  rather  guess  had  been  a 
school  Many  hav(5  deep  and  well-carved  cisterns 
attueiied  to  them,  which,  even  in  this  dry  season 
(Muy)  were  well  supplied  with  water.  The  largest 
and  us03t  remarkable  of  all  is  a  Buddhist  temple,  of 
great  beauty  and  majesty,  and  which,  even  in  its  pre- 
sent state,  would  make  a  very  stately  and  convenient 
pli  3e  of  Christian  worship.  It  is  entered  through  a 
fine  and  lofty  portico,  having  on  the  front  but  a  little 
to  the  left  hand,  a  high  detached  octagonal  pillar, 
surmounted  by  three  lions,  seated  back  to  back.  On 
each  side  of  the  portico  is  a  colossal  statue  of  Buddha, 
with  his  hands  raised  in  the  attitude  of  benediction, 
and  the  screen  which  separates  the  vestibule  from  the 
temple  is  covered,  immediately  above  the  dodo,  with  a 
row  of  male  and  female  figures,  nearly  naked,  but  not 
indecent,  and  carved  with  considerable  spirit,  which 
apparently  represent  dancers. — In  the  centre  of  the 
semicircle,  and  with  a  free  walk  all  round  it,  is  a  mass 
of  rock  left  solid,  but  carved  externally  like  a  dome, 
and  so  as  to  bear  a  strong  general  likeness  to  our 
Saviour's  sepulchre,  as  it  is  now  chiselled  away  and 
enclosed  in  St.  Helena's  Church  at  Jerusalem.  On  the 
top  of  the  dome  is  a  sort  of  spreading  ornament,  like 
the  capital  of  a  column.  It  is  apparently  intended  to 
support  something,  and  I  was  afterwards  told  at  Carli, 
where  such  an  ornament,  but  of  greater  size,  is  like- 
wise found,  that  a  large  gilt  umbrella  used  to  spring 
from  it.  This  solid  dome  appears  to  be  the  usual 
symbol  of  Buddhist  adoration,  and  with  its  umbrella 
ornament,  may  be  traced  in  the  Shoo-Madoo  of  Pegu, 
and  other  more  remote  structures  of  the  same  faith. 

14* 


all 


I 


162 


GREAT  CITIES  UJT  TUE  WORLD. 


.Though  it  is  different  in  its  form  and  style  of  ornament 
from  the  Lingam,  I  cannot  help  thinking  it  has  been 
originally  intended  to  represent  the  same  popular  object 
of  that  almost  universal  idolatry.  The  ceiling  of  this 
cave  is  arched  seraicircularly  and  ornamented,  in  a 
very  singular  manner,  with  slender  ribs  of  teak  wood 
of  the  same  curve  with  the  roof,  and  disposed  as  if 
they  were  supporting  it ;  which,  however,  it  does  not 
require.  Nor  are  they  strong  enough  to  answer  the 
purpose.  Their  use  may  have  been  to  hang  lamps  or 
flowers  from  in  solemn  rejoicings." 

Let  us  continue,  with  the  same  traveller,  to  inves- 
tigate the  wonders  of  Carli,  despairing,  as  we  do,  of 
furnishing  a  more  eloquent  and  tasteful  description  : — 
"  "  This  celebrated  cavern  is  hewn  on  the  face  of  a 
precipice  about  two-thirds  up  the  side  of  a  steep  hill, 
rising,  with  a  very  scarped  and  regular  talus,  to  the 
height  of,  probably,  eight  hundred  feet  above  the 
plain.  The  excavations  consist,  beside  the  principal 
temple,  of  many  smaller  apartments,  and  galleries  in 
two  stories,  some  of  them  ornamented  with  great 
beauty,  and  evidently  intended,  like  those  at  Kennery, 
for  the  lodging  of  monks  or  hermits.  The  temple 
itself  is  on  the  same  general  plan  as  that  of  Kennery, 
but  half  as  large  again,  and  far  finer  and  richer.  It 
is  approached  by  a  steep  and  narrow  path  winding  up 
the  side  of  the  hill  among  trees  and  brushwood,  and 
fragments  of  rock.  This  brought  us  to  a  mean  and 
ruinous  temple  of  Siva,  which  serves  as  a  sort  of  gate- 
way to  the  cave:  a  similar  small  building  stands  on 

the  right  hand  of  its  portico The  approach  tc 

the  temple  is,  like  th»t  of  Kennery,  under  a  nobk 


THK    ROCK-ni:\VN    CTTTKS    OF    INDIA. 


"168 


arch,  fittud  up  with  a  sort  of  portico  screen,  in  two 
stories  of  thrco  iiitorcohimni  itions  below,  and  -five 
above.  In  the  front,  hut  a  little  to  the  left,  is  the 
same  kind  of  pillar  as  is  'een  at  Kennery,  though  of 
larger  dimensions,  surmounted  by  three  lions  back  to 
hack.  Within  the  portico,  to  the  right  and  left,  are 
three  colossal  figures,  in  alto-relievo,  of  elephants, 
their  faces  looking  towards  the  person  who  arrives 
in  the  portico,  and  their  heads,  tusks,  and  trunks, 
very  boldly  projecting  from  the  wall.  On  each  of 
them  is  a  mohout  very  well  carved,  and  a  howdah 
with  two  persons  seated  in  it.  The  internal  screen 
on  each  side  of  the  door  is  covered,  as  at  Kennery, 
with  alto-relievos,  very  bold  and  somewhat  larger  than 
life,  of  naked  male  and  female  figures.  I  asked  our 
young  guides  what  deities  these  represented,  and  was 
surprised  to  hear  from  them  in  answer, — '  These  are 
not  gods,  one  god  is  sufficient,  these  are  viragees' 
(religious  enthusiasts,  or  attendants  on  the  deity.)  On 
asking,  however,  if  their  god  was  the  same  whom  they 
worshipped  in  the  little  temple  before  the  steps,  and 
if  he  were  Maha  Deo,  they  answered  in  the  aflSrmative, 
so  that  their  deism  merely  extended  to  paying  Avorship 
to  a  single  idol  only.  There  is  certainly,  however, 
no  image  either  of  Buddha  or  any  other  mytholo- 
gical personage,  about  this  cavern,  nor  any  visible 
object  of  devotion,  except  the  mystic  chettah,  or  um- 
brella, already  mentioned  at  Kennery.  The  details  of 
the  cave  within  having  been  already  more  than  once 
published,  and  as  in  its  general  arrangement,  it  closely 
answers  to  Kennerv,  I  will  onlv  observe,  that  both 
in  dimensions  and  execution,  it   is  uiiicli  nobler  and 


mM 


(J 


164 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


more  elaborate;  and  that  the  cnpitals  of  the  "olumns 
(all  of  them  at  least  ^vhich  are  not  hidden  by  the 
chettah  at  the  east  end)  are  very  singular  and  b^iauti- 
ful.  Each  consists  of  a  largo  cup,  like  a  bell,  finely 
carved,  and  surmounted  by  two  elephants  with  their 
trunks  intertwined,  and  each  carrying  two  male  and 
one  female  figure,  which  our  guides  again  told  us  were 
viragoes.  The  timber  ribs  which  d  corate  the  roof, 
whatever  their  use  may  have  been,  are  very  perfect, 
and  have  a  good  effect  in  the  perspective  of  the 
interior,  which  is  all  extremely  clean,  and  in  good 
repair,  and  would  be,  in  fact,  a  very  noble  temple 
for  any  religion." 

But  it  is  in  the  ruins  of  Ellora  that  we  must  see  for 
the  consummation  of  Indian  art  in  the  construction  of 
sacred  edifices. 

These  temples  are  situated  in  the  province  of  Hy- 
derabad, about  twenty  miles  north-west  from  Des- 
ghir  or  Tagara,  the  capital  of  Aurungabad,  and  239 
miles  east  of  Bombay.  It  may  be  considered  as 
near  the  centre  of  India.  Here  we  have  a  granite 
mountain,  forming  a  vast  amphitheatre,  completely 
chiselled  out  from  top  to  bottom,  and  filled  with  innu- 
merable temples;  the  god  Siva  alone  having,  it  is  said, 
about  twenty  appropriated  to  himself.  To  describe  the 
numerous  galleries  and  rows  of  pillars  which  support 
various  chambers,  lying  one  above  another ;  the  steps, 
porticos,  and  bridges  of  rock  over  canals,  also  hewn 
out  of  the  solid  rock,  would  be  impossible;  and  we 
recommend  those  who  have  the  opportunity  to  look  at 
Daniell's  designs,  which,  incomplete  as  they  are,  and  on 


-*5uj 


:'4     - 


THE   KOCK-HEWN   CITIES   OF   INDIA. 


165 


too  small  a  scale,  will  serve  to  give  some  idea  of  this 
Mfonderful  place.  The  chief  temple  in  this  mountain 
is  called  Kailasa,  which  wo  enter  from  under  a  balcony ; 
after  which  we  come  to  an  ante-chamber  138  feet  wide, 
by  88  feet  in  length,  with  many  rows  of  pillars  and 
chambers  adjoining  them.  From  this  chamber  we  pass 
through  a  grand  portico,  and  over  a  bridge,  into  a 
huge  cavern-chamber,  or  rather  court,  open  to  the  sky, 
with  the  huge  masses  of  the  natural  rock  overhanging 
the  pillars  around.  In  the  middle  of  this  court  stands 
the  great  temple,  which  is  excavated  from  the  upper 
region  of  the  rock,  and  appears  like  a  grand  build- 
iug.  It  is  connected  with  the  gateway  by  a  bridge 
left  out  of  the  rock,  as  the  mass  of  the  mountain 
was  excavated.  Beneath  this  bridge,  at  the  end  oppo- 
site the  entrance,  there  is  a  figure  of  Bowanee  sitting 
on  a  lotus,  with  two  elephants  with  their  trunks  joined, 
as  though  fighting  over  her  head.  On  each  side  of 
the  passage,  under  the  bridge,  is  an  elephant,  one  of 
which  has  lost  its  head,  the  other  its  trunk,  and  both 
are  much  shortened  of  their  height  by  earth.  There 
are,  likewise,  ranges  of  apartments  on  each  side  behind 
the  elephants,  of  which  those  on  the  left  are  much  the 
finest,  being  handsomely  decorated  with  figures :  ad- 
vanced in  the  area,  beyond  the  elephants,  are  two 
obelisks,  of  a  square  form,  handsomely  graduated  to 
the  commencement  of  the  capitals,  which  seem  to  liavc 
been  crowned  with  ornaments."  ^ 

The  temple  itself  measures  103  feet  long,  and  56 
feet  wide,  and  rises  to  a  height  of  100  feet  in  a  pyra- 
midal form.     It  is  hollowed  out  to  the  hei"rht  of  seven- 


J. 


166 


GRKAT  CiriKS  OF  TilK  WORLD. 


teen  feet,  and  supported  by  four  row8  of  pillars, 
fronted  by  colossal  elephants.  These  monsters  seem 
to  give  life  and  vigour  to  the  general  design,  whilst 
the  whole  building,  resembling  one  of  the  most  mag- 
nificent of  the  pyramidal  temples,  is  covered  with 
sculptures. 


'if/ft  ■:'».'i- • 


••  r 


r>T 


t  -T'- 


PEKING. 


•?." 


,4<^-4^ 


THE  frequenter  of  cu- 
riosity shops,  who  has 
used   himself    among 
himsical  monsters, 


r\i  /,'"f/      r-^iY^   fantasticiil  furniture,  and 

grotorique  yet  ingeniua 
toys,  which,  in  defiance  of  rules  of  a  purer  and  more 
natural  stvle  of  art,  claim  admiration  for  the  elaborate- 
ness  of  their  workmanship,  and  the  patience  they  attest 
in  their  execution,  will  rendily  find  a  reason  for  the 
introduction  of  China,  nftcr  the  mention  of  works  of 
Indian  art.  Considerable  similarity  in  manners  and 
customs — equal  mystery  ns  to  early  origin  and  history, 
and  an  equal  pi'pvalence  of  Buddhism — Avill  furnish  ainplo 
apology  for  the  introduction  of  Peking,  the  largest  city 
of  China,  to  onr  readers.  In  a  notice  of  the  "  Great 
Cities  of  the  WovM,"  the  city  of  Peking,  the  metropolis 
of  a  third  of  the  human  race,  can  ill  bo  omitted. 

This  enormous  town  is  situated  on  a  vast  plain  in  the 
'  •      (167)      •• 


m 


■':  ril^J   \ 


:i 


m 


r^JbS^,. 


h 


168 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


interior  of  the  district  of  Chih-li,  the  northernmost 
province  of  China  Proper.  The  eastern  and  southern 
boundaries  of  the  sandy  plain  are  not  visible  from  the 
town,  but  on  the  west  and  north  hills  begin  to  rise  only 
a  few  miles  from  the  walls  of  the  city.  Peking  is  situ- 
ated fifty  miles  from  the  great  wall,  at  its  nearest  point, 
and  it  is  one  hundred  miles  from  the  gulf  of  Chih-li. 
It  is  about  six  miles  in  diameter,  and  eighteen  miles  in 
circumference.  The  following  account  from  the  pen  of 
one  of  the  early  Jesuits,  will  doubtless  prove  interest- 
ing ;— . 

"  Pekin,  that  is  the  north  court,  is  the  chief  city  of 
China,  and  the  usual  seat  of  its  emperors.  It  is  so 
named  to  distinguish  it  from  Nankin,  the  south  court, 
another  very  considerable  city,  so  called  from  the  em- 
perors residing  there  in  former  ages,  it  being  the  finest, 
the  most  commodious,  and  best  situated  of  the  whole 
empire ;  but  the  continual  incursions  of  the  Tartars,  a 
warlike  and  very  troublesome  neighbour,  obliged  him 
to  settle  in  the  most  northernly  provinces,  that  he  might 
be  always  ready  to  oppose  them,  with  the  numerous 
army  he  usually  keeps  near  his  court  .  .  .  This 
city,  which  is  of  an  exact  square  form,  was  formerly 
four  long  leagues  round,  but  Tartars  settling  there 
forced  the  Chinese  to  live  without  the  walls,  where  they, 
in  a  very  short  while,  built  a  new  town,  which,  being 
more  long  than  large,  does  with  the  old  one  compose 
an  irregular  figure.  Thus  Pekin  is  made  up  of  two 
cities ;  one  is  called  the  Tartar's,  because  they  permit 
none  else  to  inhabit  it ;  and  the  other  the  Chinese,  as 
large,  but  much  more  full  than  the  first.  Both  are 
together  six  great  leagues  in  circuit,  allowing  3600 


■  ii 


PEKING. 


169 


paces  to  each  league.  This  I  can  aver  to  be  true,  it 
having  been  measured  by  the  emperor's  special  com- 
mand."  ifi,    .  •-  .,>"fn^,      r;  .»a-.   «■    { 

The  houses  in  Peking  are  few  of  more  than  one 
story,  and  the  testimony  of  all  authorities  point  to  a 
denseness  of  inhabitation,  equalled  by  no  other  town 
in  the  world.  Ten  or  even  twenty  persons  will  live  in 
one  small  room,  without  attracting  unenviable  notice. 

Martin,  in  describing  the  city,  observes : — "  The 
northern  division  of  Peking,  consists  of  three  enclosures, 
one  within  another,  each  surrounded  by  its  own  wall. 
The  first  contains  the  imperial  palace,  and  the  abodes 
of  the  different  members  of  the  imperial  household ; 
the  second,  was  designed  for  the  residence  of  the  oflBcers 
of  the  court,  but  is  now  occupied  by  Chinese  mer- 
chants ;  the  third,  consists  of  the  space  enclosed  by  the 
outer  walls,  and  was  formerly  inhabited  by  Tartar 
soldiers,  but  is  now  in  the  possession  of  Chinese  shop- 
keepers and  traders.  The  first  enclosure  {forbidden 
city)  is  the  most  splendid  and  important  part  of  Peking. 
It  is  situated  nearly  in  the  centre  of  the  northern  divi- 
sion of  the  city.  It  is  an  oblong  parallelogram,  about 
two  miles  in  circumference,  and  enclosed  by  a  wall 
nearly  thirty  feet  high.  This  wall  is  built  of  polished 
red  brick,  surrounded  by  a  ditch  lined  with  hewn  stone, 
and  covered  with  varnished  tiles  of  a  brilliant  yellow, 
which  give  it  the  appearance,  wiien  seen  under  the  rays 
of  the  sun,  of  being  covered  with  a  roof  of  gold.  The 
interior  of  this  t  iclosure,  is  occupied  by  a  suite  of 
court-yards  and  apartments,  which,  it  is  said,  for  beauty 
and  splendour  r.iiinot  he  surpassed.  It  is  divided  into 
three  pui  ^  s  the  eastern,   middle,  and  western.     The 

Id 


\ 

t 

\ 
1' 

1 

i 

Im 

I 

WM 

1 

'  1 

Hnl 

1 

1 

■1 

Rl 

Pi 

.1  ! 


> 


r'l 


■  'i . 


170 


GPEAT   CITIES   OF   THE    WORLD. 


middle  division  contains  the  imperial  buildings,  which, 
are  subdivided  into  several  distinct  palaces.  They  are 
represented  by  the  Jesuits  as  perfect  models  of  archi- 
tecture. 

"  The  gates  and  halls  are  thus  described : — 1.  The 
meridian  gate.  Before  this  gate,  on  the  east,  is  a  lunar 
dial,  and  on  the  west,  a  solar,  and  in  the  tower  above 
it,  a  large  bell  and  gong.  All  public  officers  enter  and 
leave  the  palace  by  the  eastern  avenue ;  none  but  the 
princes  of  the  imperial  blood  are  permitted  to  pass  the 
western,  and  none  but  the  emperor  the  southern  avenue. 
At  this  gate  are  distributed  the  presents  to  embassies ; 
and  all  war  captives  are  here  received  by  his  majesty 
in  person.  2.  The  gate  of  Peace  has  five  avenues,  and 
is  a  superb  building  of  white  marble.  The  height  of 
the  basement  is  twenty  feet,  and  the  whole  edifice  110 
feet.  The  ascent  to  it  is  by  five  tlights  of  forty  steps 
oach,  and  it  is  highly  ornamented  with  tripods,  and 
other  figures  in  bronze.  Here,  on  all  the  holidays,  and 
on  the  anniversary  of  the  emperor's  birthday,  he  re- 
ceives the  congratulations  of  his  officers,  who  prostrate 
themselves  to  the  earth  before  him,  and  strike  the 
ground  Avith  their  foreheads.  3.  The  Hall  of  Perfect 
Peace;  here  the  emperor  comes  to  examine  tlic  imple- 
ments prepared  for  the  annual  ceremony  of  ploughing. 
4.  The  Hall  of  Secure  Peace;  in  tliis  the  emperor 
gives  a  banquet  to  his  foreign  guests  on  new  year's 
day.  5.  The  Tranquil  Palace  of  Heaven,  i.  e.  of  the 
emperor.  This  is  a  private  retreat  to  which  no  one 
can  approach  without  special  permission.  Tins  palace 
is  described  by  the  Russians,  Avho  have  had  many 
opportunities  of  seeing  it,  as  '  the  loftiest,  richest,  and 


««','»    ai     PEKING. 


171 


most  magnificent  of  all  the  palaces.'  On  each  side  of 
the  tower  is  a  large  copper  vessel,  in  which  incense  is 
burnt  day  and  night.  (5.  The  Palace  of  Earth's  Re- 
pose, /.  e.  of  the  empress,  whieli  is  said  to  be  very 
beautiful ;  adjoining  this  is  the  imperial  flower-garden, 
which  is  laid  out  in  a\  alien  for  hor  mjijesty,  who  being  a 
Tartar,  has  not  adopted  the  Chinese  custom  of  crippling 
her  feet,  and,  thei-eforc,  is  said  to  enjoy  herself  in  what 
is  called  '  Earth's  Kopose.'  In  this  garden  is  a  library, 
said  to  contain  a  collection  of  all  the  books  published 
in  China." 

Of  the  bustle  and  conl'usion  of  ihe  streets  of  Peking, 
some  idea  may  be  formed  from  the  words  of  a  writer, 
trust-worthy  enough,  I  have  found,  to  be  quoted  with- 
out restraint : — 

"Even  the  widest  streets  are  not  free  from  con- 
fusion ;  and  at  the  sight  of  so  many  horses,  mules, 
camels,  wagons,  chairs,  and  rings  of  100  or  200 
persons  who  gsither  here  and  there  round  the  fortune- 
tellers, one  would  judge  that  some  unusual  show  had 
drawn  the  whole  country  to  Pekin.  -"  *  ■*  [After 
mentioning  the  practice  of  all  persons  of  any  property 
going  out  with  many  attendants,  he  continues :] — It 
is  evident  that  these  customs,  which  are  peculiar  to 
China,  do  very  much  increase  the  throng,  and  it  must 
not  be  wondered  at  that  the  city  should  seem  much 
more  populous  than  it  really  is  :  and  whnt  must  con- 
vince us  L-,  thai:,  as  I  nave  shown,  there  may  more 
people  lodge  in  Paris  than  in  Pekin.  Then,  taking  it 
for  granted  that  twenty  or  twenty- five  persons  there 
take  up  no  more  room  than  ten  here,  as  I  have  already 
said,  we  must  conclude,  on  the  wliule,  that  Pekin  COU' 


ia 


172 


GREAT   CITIES    OF  THE    WORLD. 


tains  near  twice  as  many  as  Paris  does ,  and  I  think  1 
shall  not  be  very  wide  of  the  truth  if  I  allow  it  two 
millions  of  inhabitants. " 

In  1668  the  total  population  of  China  was  25,386,209 
inhabitants ;  taking  the  annual  births  in  the  empire  to 
be  30,000  (which  cannot  be  far  from  the  trith,)  and 
allowing  a  third  of  these  to  die,  we  have  a  decrease  of 
some  40,000,  and  630,000  for  adult  deaths,  leaves  us 
rather  more  than  24,000,000  as  the  total  population  in 
1^97;  and  on  comparison  2,000,000  for  the  capital 
will  not  appear  too  much.  The  present  population  is 
jIm»  3,000,000. 

**iil»ost  all  the  streets  arc  built  in  a  direct  line, 
tlot^  greatest  being  alout  120  feet  broad,  and  a  good 
leagu€,  and  the  shops  where  they  sell  silks  and  chinu- 
ware  which,  generally  take  up  the  whole  street,  makes 
a  rer^  agree&ble  perspective.  *  *  *  Each  shop- 
keeper put«  out  befare  his  house,  on  a  little  kind  of 
pedestal,  a  board  twenty  or  two-and-twenty  feet  high, 
painted,  v^arnished,  and  often  gilt,  on  which  are  written, 
in  large  characters,  the  names  of  the  several  commo- 
dities he  sells.  These  kind  of  pilasters,  thus  placed 
on  each  side  of  the  street,  and  almost  at  an  equal  dis- 
tance from  each  other,  make  a  pretty  odd  show.  This 
is  usual  in  almost  all  the  cities  of  China,  and  I  have  in 
some  places  seen  so  very  nea^  ones,  that  one  would 
think  they  had  designed  to  make  a  stage  of  the 
street." 

The  accounts  of  travellers  concur  in  describing  the 
streets  of  Peking  as  very  animated,  but  as  full  of  dirt 
and  dust  as  any  city,  equally  as  badly  cleansed, 
nearer  home. 


tlh^' 


Vi 


^i'*V.     ' 


jj; 


•i 


'M') 


i!^ 


i 


PEK1N(}. 


175 


S3 
U 

&=< 

o 

•< 


H 
.5 


As  Poking  stiivted  into  its  present  regular  modern 
array  at  least  seven  hiinilred  years  before  the  Clirist- 
ian  era,  little  can  he  said  on  the  subject  of  its  anti- 
quities, for  since  all  is  so  ancient,  nothing  can  be 
particularly  mentioned  as  of  parallel  antiquity  to  what 
ve  have  seen  in  Egypt,  Nineveh,  Syria,  Persepolis, 
and  India;  for  although  the  institutions  of  to-day 
have  existed  in  the  country  for  2,r>00  years,  to  describe 
them  would  be  to  describe  what  is  taking  place  every 
day.  There  has  been  no  race  destroyed  here  as  in 
Nineveh,  and  there  has  been  little  left  by  the  earlier 
denizens  of  the  country  to  signify  their  presence  ;  the 
Great  Wall,  indeed,  conveys  to  our  minds  an  impres- 
sion of  plaster  still  wet,  and  is  almost  the  oldest  piece 
of  architecture  they  possess ;  as  it  has  been  often 
described,  wo  shall  not  include  it  in  the  present  sketch. 

One  curiosity  there  does  exist  in  China,  of  unques- 
tionable comparative  antiquity  and  great  interest  in 
respect  to  the  preaching  of  Christianity,  which  Martin, 
a  most  excellent  authority  on  China,  thus  describes, 
speaking  of  embassies  : — 

"  A.  D.  635.  The  Chinese  annals  state,  that  during 
the  reign  of  Tait-sung.  the  second  emperor  of  the 
Tang  dynasty,  there  came  ambassadors  from  foreign 
nations.  There  arrived  at  the  capital  of  China,  /Sin- 
gan-foo,  a  man  of  exalted  virtue,  named  Olapun. 
The  Emperor  graciously  received  this  stranger,  exa- 
mined the  nature  of  the  new  religion  (Scriptures,) 
found  that  Olapun  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with 
truth  and  uprightness,  and  gave  him  a  special  com- 
mand to  make  it  known.  The  following  year  thii 
decree  was  issued  :- — 


i>  b 


\ 


mf^^RlKnni^^iMs^^iVmnKSnmll^B^^^^^'' 


176 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


Li  M    111 


*' '  Truth  hath  not  an  unchanging  name,  nor  aro 
holy  men  confined  to  one  immutable  form.  In  every 
place  true  doctrine  has  been  disseminated ;  and  with 
reiterated  instructions,  the  crowd  of  the  living  hava 
been  blessed.  From  the  distant  region  of  Ta-tain 
(Arabia,  probably,)  [Ta-tsin,  '  great  purity]'  the  greatly 
virtuous  Olapun  has  brought  scriptures  and  pictures, 
to  offer  them  to  our  high  court.  If  the  intent  of  this 
doctrine  be  examined,  it  is  seen  to  be  profound,  excel- 
lent, and  pure.  If  its  noble  origin  be  considered,  it 
offers  that  which  is  important.  Its  phriseology  is 
without  superfluous  words.  It  contains  truth,  reject- 
ing that  which  is  needless.  It  is  beneficial  accord- 
ing to  every  view,  and  profitable  to  the  people ;  and 
should,  therefore,  pervade  the  empire.  Let  the  officers 
erect  a  temple  for  the  religion  of  Ta-tsin  in  the  capi- 
tal, and  appoint  twenty-one  ministers  for  its  adminis- 
tration. ■         *  ■      '-*-"     '-'    -  ■--     '^ 

"  The  discovery  of  a  Syrian  monument,  commemo- 
rating the  progress  of  Christianity  in  China,  which 
was  erected'  A.  D.  718,  is  a  remarkable  circumstance 
in  corroboration  of  the  foregoing  statement.  This 
monument  was  discovered  by  some  Chinese  workmen, 
A.  D.  1625,  near  the  city  of  Sangan,  the  capital  of  the 
province  of  Slien-se,  which  was  at  a  remote  period  tlie 
capital  of  the  empire.  This  city  is  situated  on  the 
river  Wei,  in  latitude  34°  16'  N.  The  monument 
is  described  as  a  slab  of  marble,  about  ten  feet  long 
and  five  feet  broad ;  it  was  covered  with  earth,  but 
instantly  shown  to  the  authorities ;  and  at  this  period 
there  were  numerous  Christian  missionaries  in  China, 
who   had    an    opportunity  of  examining   it,  together 


PEKING. 


177 


with  natives  and  pagans.  On  one  side  of  it  is  the 
Chinese  inscription,  in  twenty-eight  lines,  twenty-six 
characters  in  each  line,  besides  a  heading,  in  nine 
characters ;  the  Syrian  is  on  the  right  side,  comprised 
in  seventeen  characters.  The  nine  Chinese  characters 
at  the  top  of  this  monument  read  thus :  "  A  Tablet, 
recording  the  introduction  of  the  religion  of  the  Ta- 
tsin  country  in  China."  It  commences  with  stating 
the  existence  of  the  living  and  true  God ;  the  creation 
of  the  world ;  the  fall  of  man  •,  and  the  mission  of 
Jesus  Christ.  Tha  miraculous  birth  and  excellent 
teaching  of  the  Saviour  are  briefly  described.  His 
ascension  is  spoken  of;  the  institution  of  baptism 
mentioned ;  and  the  cross  declared  to  be  effectual  for 
the  salvation  of  all  mankind.  The  latter  part  of  the 
inscription  states,  that  in  the  reign  of  Tang-tae-Tnungy 
A.  D.  636,  a  Christian  teacher  came  from  Ta-tsin  to 
China;  where  the  emperor,  after  examining  his  doc- 
trines, published  an  edict,  authorising  the  preachiag  of 
Christianity  among  the  people.' 

Such  is  the  description  of  this  important  relic  of 
early  Christianity ;  and  in  the  inscription  the  Christian 
faith  is  called  the  "illustrious  religion."  The  men- 
tion of  this  interesting  discovery  naturally  leads  us  to 
consider  the  doctrines  of  the  three  principal  faiths, 
ethical  and  religious,  of  China. 

"Religion  has  always  had  a  great  share  in  esta- 
blishing the  greatest  kingdoms,  which  could  never  sup- 
port themselves,  were  not  the  people's  minds  and  hearts 
tied  together  by  the  outward  worship  of  some  deity ;  for 
people  are  naturally  superstitious,  and  rather  follow  the 
guidance  of  faith  than  reason.     It  was,  therefore  for 


fl 


178 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WuKLD. 


this  reason,  that  the  ancient  lawgivers  always  made 
use  of  the  knowledge  of  the  true  God,  or  of  the  false 
maxims  of  idolatry,  to  bring  tlio  barbarous  nations 
under  the  yoke  of  their  government." 

So  says  the  worthy  Jesuit,  in  a  letter  to  Cardinal  de 
Bouillon,  and  we  may  conclude  that  his  observations 
are  correct,  as  they  savour  of  the  tenets  of  his  order. 
After  stating  that  Monotheism  had  lasted  for  many 
centuries  in  China,  he  continues  : — 

"  The  knowledge  of  the  true  God,  which  lasted  many 
ages  after  the  reign  of  Cam  Vara,  and,  in  all  proba- 
bility, a  long  while  after  the  time  of  Confucius,  was 
not  always  supported  in  the  same  purity.  Their  minds 
were  possessed  by  idolatry,  ai?d  their  manners  became 
60  corrupt,  that  the  true  Faith,  being  but  the  occasion 
of  greater  ill,  Wtis  by  little  and  little  taken  away  f)oni 
them  by  the  just  judgm«  ut  of  God.  Among  all  the 
superstitions  which  ft^llowcd  hereupon,  there  wore  two 
sorts  wnich  were  pr;inciv,al]y  established,  and  do  be- 
tween them,  at  this  present  moment,  compreiiend 
almost  all  the  empire." 

In  the  reign  of  Ting- Wang  (604  b.  c.)  the  founder 
>f  t'.?  Taou  philosophy  Laou-Tsze  was  born,  and  the 
man  iv  of  his  birth  so  much  resemhlos  that  of  Diony- 
30S  (Bacchus)  us  to  justify  the  yupptKsiiion  of  their 
identity.  M.  Rumusat's  remarks  on  his  histoi-v,  show 
clearly  that  the  major  part  of  the  hioiriiiphy  of  Laou- 
Tsze  is  mytlucal  and  mystical,  and  he  couipaies  him 
with  Pythagoras  (5i0  u.  c,);  but  a  new  li«^ht  uonld  be 
thrown  upon  the  whole  subject,  did  space  admit  of  it. 

Le  Compte  continues ; — "  This  monster,  to  the  sorrow 
of  his  countryj  survived  his  mother,  and  by  his  perni- 


V  «; 


I'EKl-Na. 


179 


cious  doctrine  in  a  short  time  grew  fumoua;  nevertheless, 
he  wrote  several  useful  bo<jks,  of  virtue,  of  the  good  of 
avoiding  honour,  of  the  contempt  of  riches,  of  that  in- 
compurahle  retirednesa  of  mind,  which  :  oparates  us 
from  the  world,  the  better  to  know  ourselves.  lie 
often  repeated  the  following  sentence,  which  he  sai'^ 
was  the  foundation  of  true  wisdom  :  Eternal  ti  »> 
produced  one  ;  one  produced  two  ;  two  produced  t/ 
and  three  produced  all  t/tiiu/s:  whicli  seems  to 
as  if  he  had  s(!nie  knowledge  of  the  Trinity." 

That  the  doctrines  of  the  Taou  sect  originally  sprang 
from  some  mutilated  and  mystified  versions  of  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Trinity,  there  is  liigh  doubt,  but  not 
whether  the  leading  notioii  (if  it  be  not  derived  from  a 
common  source  with  the  Hellenic  and  other  legend- 
ary lore,)  was  obtained  from  the  prophetical  books  of 
the  Old  Testament,  for  1  h;.ve  elsewhere  stated,  that 
tliei'e  are  many  Jfcbrew  MSS.  in  China,  and  now  fur- 
ther say  that  they  have  been  there  for  many  centuries, 
and  even,  as  will  be  seen  hereafter,  for  some  hundreds 
of  years  before  the  Christian  era.  I  translate  from  the 
Chinese,  a  passage  relative  to  the  doctrine  of  Taou. 

"  The  Chinese  sect  Taou  affirm :  '  Taou  brought 
fortli  one ;  one  brought  forth  two ;  two  brought  forth 
three  ;  and  three  brought  forth  all  things.'  If  you  ask 
them  what  the  nature  of  Taou  (the  original  principle)  is 
they  reply  :  ^  Taou  is  extreme  stillness  or  a  condition  of 
perfect  rest.'  In  speaking  of  the  outward  forms  of  the 
three,  they  characterize  their  nature  as  '  the  heaven's 
adorning  principle,  earth's  vivifying  principle,  and  the 
pure  principle  of  the  exciting  harmonizing  wind;'  or  as 
it  is  defined  by  them,  '  That  aerial  cause,  or  principle, 


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180 


GREAT  CITIEb  OF  THE  WORLD. 


by  means  of  which  the  heavens  and  the  earth  act  upon 
each  other.*  They  call  the  internal  Trinity,  *  The  clear 
unniingled  influence;  the  spiritual  intelligence;  the 
purity  of  essence ;  in  the  midst  of  rest  the  yin  and 
1/ang  principles  separated.  Essence,  intelligence,  and 
influence,  together  worked  in  a  state  of  vacuum.*  ** 

Such  is  the  clear,  and  intelligible  strnin  of  the  Taou 
philosophy,  which  might  have  been  an  intelligible  phi- 
losophy at  the  time,  but  is  considered  obscure  at  present, 
from  the  tampering  of  time  and  unphilosophical  com- 
mentators.    To  return  to  the  account  of  the  Jesuit : — 

"  But  he  taught  that  God  was  corporeal,  and  that 
he  governed  other  deities,  as  a  king  governs  his  sub- 
jects. He  applied  himself  mightily  to  chymistry,  of 
which  some  pretend  he  was  the  inventor.  He  beat  his 
brains,  likewise,  about  the  philosopher's  stone  ;  and  did, 
at  length,  fancy,  that  by  a  certain  sort  of  drink  one 
might  be  immortal.  To  obtain  which,  his  followers 
practise  magic,  which  diabolical  art,  in  a  short  time, 
was  the  only  thing  studied  by  the  gentry.  Every  body 
studied  it  in  hopes  to  avoid  death ;  and  the  women, 
through  natural  curiosity,  as  well  as  a  desire  to  prolong 
their  life,  applied  themselves  to  it,  wherein  they  exer- 
cise all  sorts  of  extravagances,  and  give  themselves  up 
to  all  sorts  of  impieties.  ^ 

"  Those  who  have  made  this  their  professed  business, 
are  called  Tien-se,  that  is,  heavenly  doctors ;  they  have 
houses  given  them  to  live  together  in  society;  they 
erect,  in  divers  parts,  temples  to  Laokun  their  master  ;* 
king  and  people  honour  him  with  divine  worship  ;  and, 
although  they  have  examples  enough  to  have  unde- 
ceived them  from  these  errors,  yet  they  vehemently 


i\ 


PEKINO. 


m 


pursue  immortality  by  his  precepts,  who  could  never 
gain  it  himself." 

"An  interview,"  says  Martin,  "is  said  to  have 
taken  place  between  Laou-Tsze  and  Confucius,  in  the 
year  517  b.  c.  The  former  was  eighty-seven  years  old, 
and  the  latter  thirty-five,  Laon-tsze  reproached  Con- 
fucius with  vanity  and  worldly-mindedness,  as  exhibited 
by  the  pompous  style  in  which  he  travelled,  and  the 
number  of  his  followers.  *The  wise  man,*  said  he, 
'loves  obscurity;  so  far  from  courting  employments,  he 
shuns  them :  he  studies  the  tiroes ;  if  they  be  favourable, 
he  speaks ;  if  corrupt,  be  yields  to  the  storm.  He  who 
is  truly  virtuous,  makes  no  parade  of  his  virtue ;  he 
does  not  proclaim  to  all  the  world  that  he  is  a  sage. 
This  is  all  I  have  to  say  to  you ;  make  the  best  of  it 
you  can.'  Confucius  said  of  Laou-tsze,  that  *  he  knew 
the  habits  of  birds,  beasts,  and  fishes,  and  how  to  take 
them ;  but  as  to  the  dragon,  he  could  not  understand 
how  it  could  raise  itself  in  the  heavens.  He  had  seen 
Laou-tsze,  who  resembled  the  dragon.'  " 

The  death  of  Laou-tsze  took  place  in  522  B.  c.  The 
portraits  of  the  impostor  would  make  him  a  European. 

The  most  important  event  in  Chinese  literary  and 
ethical  history  is  the  birth  of  Kung-foo-tsze  (Confucius)» 
both  in  its  efiects  on  the  moral  organization  of  this 
great  empire,  and  on  the  study  of  Chinese  philosophy 
in  Europe. 

Confucius,  or  Kung-foo-tsze  (such  is  the  correct 
Chinese  spelling,  meaning  "the  sage  Kung"  or  "the 
wise  excellence"),  was  of  royal  descent ;  and  his  family 
the  most  ancient  in  the  empire,  as  his  genealogy  wus 
traceable  directly  up  to  Hwang-te,  the  reputed  orgau- 

16 


"m 


182 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


izer  of  the  state,  and  first  emperor  of  the  semi  historical 
period  (beginning  2698  b.  c.  ).  The  fa»;  er  Confu- 
cius was  Shih-Leang-Ho,  with  the  family  styl  .  Kung. 
His  son,  Confucius,  was  the  child  of  a  second  marriage 
with  a  woman  named  Len-she ;  who  being  of  a  pious 
turn  of  mind,  went  to  Ne-Kew,  and  prayed  to  the  All- 
perceiving  Divinities,  and  in  ten  months  had  a  son  in 
the  city  of  Tsow-yih  (now  called  Keu-foo-heen),  in 
Shantung  profince,  who  received  the  name  of  Kew, 
and  style  of  Clinng-no.  This  took  place  in  the  twenty- 
second  year  of  Seang-Kung,  king  of  Loo,  the  twenty- 


PEKINfl. 


lis 


first  year  of  Emperor  Ling-wang,  the  13th  day  of  the 
eleventh  month,  in  the  forty-seventh  year  of  the  cycle, 
answering  to  the  autumn  of  531  B.  c.     At  his  birth, — 


-If 


The  framo  and  huge  foundation  of  the  earth 
Sbak'd  like  a  coward ; 
"  The  front  of  heaven  was  full  of  fiery  shapei ; 
The  goata  ran  from  the  mountains,  and  the  herdi 
Were  strangely  clamorous  to  the  Arighted  fields." 


A  prodigious  quadruped  called  the  Ke-lin^  appeared 
and  prophesied  that  the  new-born  infant  "  would  be  a 
king  without  throne  or  territory."  Divers  indications 
of  scrofula  and  distortion  were  turned  into  miraculous 
indications  of  future  eminence,  and  every  fault  was  a 
distinctive  and  unusual  virtue.  Two  dragons  hovered 
about  the  couch  of  Ten-she,  and  five  celestial  sages,  or 
angels,  entered  at  the  moment  of  the  birth  of  the 
wondrous  child ;  heavenly  strains  were  heard  in  the 
air,  and  harmonies  and  chords  followed  each  other, 
fast  and  full. 

Thus  was  Confucius  ushered  into  the  world,  in  which 
for  China,  and,  I  doubt  not,  eventually  for  the  western 
world,  he  was  destined  to  work  out  many  favourable 
and  important  changes.  On  the  similarity  between  his 
birth,  and  that  of  our  Saviour,  I  need  not  dwell. 

His  father  died  before  he  was  three  years  old,  and 
be  was  left  unprovided  for ;  but  his  mother,  who  seems 
to  have  had  independent  property,  educated  him  with 
great  care  and  attention.  His  reverence  for  age,  even 
in  his  earliest  years,  seems  to  have  been  unbounded. 
At  seven  years  old  he  went  to  school,  and  his  learning 
and  talents  seem  to  have  raised  him  in  the  opinion  of 


184 


OBEAT  CITIES  OF  TBE  WORLD. 


every  one.  At  the  early  age  of  seventeen  he  obtained 
the  post  of  subordinate  surveyor  of  agricultural  pro- 
duce; the  duties  of  which  ofSce,  contrary  to  the  gene- 
ral practice,  he  performed  himself,  without  the  aid  of  a 
deputy. 

In  his  nineteenth  year,  he  married  Ke-K wan-she; 
and  at  the  birth  of  his  son,  Pih-yu,  he  seems  to  have 
been  of  consequence  enough  to  attract,  as  Abraham 
did  on  a  similar  occasion,  the  attention  of  the  monarch 
of  LoO}  who  sent  him  a  present  of  a  carp. 

In  his  twenty-first  year,  he  rose  to  the  considerable 
office  of  surveyor  of  agricultural  live  stock,  retaining, 
probably,  his  former  office.  In  this  post,  as  in  the 
former,  he  gave  general  satisfaction,  and  introduced 
much  reform;  so  that,  under  his  administration,  the 
country  became  twice  as  prosperous  as  before  his  ap- 
pointment. 

He  retired  from  public  life  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
three,  on  account  of  the  death  of  his  mother,  to  con- 
form to  the  three  years  mourning  customary  in  China ; 
and  his  mother's  obsequies  appear  to  have  been  carried 
out  in  the  most  splendid  and  respectful  manner ;  for  it 
was  one  of  the  social  reforms  brought  about  by  him,  to 
treat  the  earthly  frame  of  man,  breathless  and  quies- 
cent, with  more  reverence  and  affection  than  before. 
His  example  soon  became  general ;  and  thus  one  im- 
portant object  of  his  mission  was  carried  out. 

The  three  years  of  mourning  and  seclusion  he  passed 
in  intense  study,  and  in  following  up  the  "  six  arts,"  viz., 
music,  ceremonies,  arithmetic,  writing,  the  use  of  wea- 
pons, and  the  art  of  chariot-driving.  At  this  period  he 
imbibed  a  taste  for  philosophy,  and  refused'  to  return 


PEKINQ. 


186 


to  public  political  life.  From  this  time  he  appears  in 
the  character  of  a  travelling  politician,  reforming,  on 
philosophical  principles,  the  abuses  of  any  or  every 
land,  and  giving  advice  and  instruction  to  all.  Indeed 
his  house  appears  to  have  been  turned  into  a  kind  of 
Academus,  where  the  discussion  of  all  subjects  in  ethics, 
literature,  politics,  and  natural  science,  was  carried  on. 
Every  person,  young  or  old,  rich  or  poor,  was  admitted, 
excepting  such  persons  as  bore  a  bad  character.  On 
being  questioned  as  to  his  doctrine,  he  would  reply, 
*^  My  doctrine  is  that  which  it  concerns  all  men  to  em- 
brace :  it  is  that  of  Yaou  and  Shun.  As  to  my  mode 
of  instruction,  it  is  quite  simple ;  I  cite  the  conduct  of 
the  ancients,  by  way  of  example ;  I  prescribe  the  study 
of  the  King  (Books),  and  reflections  upon  the  maxims 
they  contain."  Indeed,  the  object  of  the  philosopher 
was  rather  to  root  out  the  abuses  which  had  crept  into 
the  usages  of  the  country  than  to  introduce  new  matter 
for  speculation,  of  which  he  never  seems  to  have  beei\ 
very  fond. 

On  his  return  to  the  kingdom  of  Loo  (in  B.  o.  511), 
he  applied  himself  to  the  revision  of  the  ancient  classic 
books.  He  reduced  the  She-king  (Ode-book)  from 
3000  poems  to  311 ;  he  edited  the  Shoo-king  (Four 
books),  and  reduced  the  number  of  chapters  from  100 
to  60,  He  executed  many  other  works  of  the  like 
nature ;  but  these,  and  the  revision  of  the  very  ancient 
Yih-king  (a  book  containing  an  account  of  the  myste- 
ries of  the  creation  and  of  early  religious  feelings), 
form  the  whole  of  the  works  which  have  come  down  to 
our  times ;  for  his  treatise  on  music  (Yo-king,)  is  lost. 

"  They  contain,"  says  Preniare,  "  the  whole  of  the 

16* 


«I6 


GREAT  riTIi:.>  OF  TMK  WORLD. 


Chinese  religion.  In  the  fuiKlanicntul  doctrines  of  them 
may  be  found  the  principles  of  naiinal  law,  which  the 
ancient  Chinese  received  from  the  sons  of  Noah.  They 
*each  the  reader  to  know  and  reverence  the  Supremo 
fieing.  Like  the  Patriarchs,  under  the  unwritten  law,  the 
emperor  is  both  king  and  poutiif.  To  him  it  belongs  to 
offer,  at  certain  times  of  the  year,  sacrifice  for  his  peo- 
ple ;  to  him  it  belongs  to  prescribe  ceremonies,  to  decide 
on  doctrines.  This  alone  can  be  called  the  established 
religion  of  China;  all  other  sects  are  considered  by 
them  to  be  extraneous,  false,  and  pernicious,  and  are 
only  tolerated.  The  Christian  religion  was  declared 
lawful  by  a  public  edict :  in  a  subsequent  reign  it  was 
proscribed."  A  few  extracts  from  the  Ta-hio  (Impor- 
tant Doctrine)  will  show  the  bearing  of  Confucian  phil- 
osophy better  than  the  complet&st  exposition  of  it : — 

"  The  path  or  course  of  learning  proper  for  men," 
says  the  Ta-hio,  *' consists  in  restoring  reason  to  its 
pristine  lustre;  in  renovating  others;  and  in  making 
the  summit  of  all  virtue  the  only  point  of  rest*  When 
the  mind  knows  its  point  of  rest,  it  is  decided ;  once 
fixed,  it  can  enjoy  tranquillity ;  and  thus  at  ease  view 
all  things  around  with  complete  self-possession,  thence 
maturely  weigh  their  nature  and  value,  and  finally  at- 
tain perfection  in  virtue.  Things  in  the  vegetable 
world  have  a  root,  as  well  as  branches  and  fruit ;  ac- 
tions too  have  a  consummation,  and  also  a  source 
whence  they  spring.  He,  then,  Avho  has  formed  a  just 
idea  of  cause  and  effect,  has  made  a  near  approxima- 
tion to  the  path  which  leads  to  the  summit  of  virtue'. 
.  .  .  From  the  Son  of  Heaven  even  to  the  common 
people,  one  rule  applies,  that  self-government  is  the 


|\ 


fEKINO. 


187 


root  of  all  virtue.     .     .     .     *  Excite  the  people  to  self- 
renovation.'     The  Shee  says — 

'  Though  Tchyeu  ruled  a  oountry  inveterate  in  evil  habits. 

By  tlie  will  of  heaven,  he  renovated  its  laws  and  manners.' 

i* 

"  There  is  then  no  degree  of  virtue  beyoiid  the  aim 
of  the  superior  man.     .     .     .     The  Shee  says — 


»0  i' 

i  ■ 


'  See  on  yon  bank  of  the  meandering  Khee, 

The  waving  reeds  how  beautifully  luxuriant ! 
.  Such  the  virtues  of  the  Superior  Man. 

As  they  carve  and  defile  ivory, 

As  they  cut  and  polish  the  precious  gem, — 

How  exquisite !  how  severe ! 

How  resplendent !  how  illustrious ! 

The  virtues  which  adorn  the  Superior  Man, 

Can  never  become  a  prey  to  oblivion.' 


iA 


■h 


.  .  .  As  riches  adorn  a  palace,  so  virtue  adorns 
the  man ;  when  the  mind  is  expanded  by  virtue  and 
knowledge,  the  body  itself  feels  in  a  state  of  freedom 
and  enjoyment.  Hence  the  superior  man  will  labour 
to  rectify  his  thoughts  and  desires.  .  .  .  When 
the  mind,  engrossed  by  some  passion,  is  not  duly  at- 
tentive, a  man  may  look  without  perceiving,  may  listen 
without  heading,  and  may  receive  food  'without  discern- 
ing its  taste.  This  sufiSciently  tells  us  that  self-govern- 
ment depends  on  a  due  command  over  the  passions. 
.  .  .  The  good  government  of  a  country,  therefore, 
must  originate  in  a  man's  cultivating  virtue  in  his  own 
house.     The  Shee  says— 

*  The  peach  tree,  how  pleasant ! 
Its  leaves  how  blooming  and  luxuriant 
Such  is  a  bride  when  she  enters  the  house  of  her  spouse, 
And  duly  regulates  his  family.' 


188 


GREAT  CITIES   OF  THE  WORLD. 


\ 


.  .  .  That  which  you  dislike  in  your  superiors, 
do  not  exercise  towards  your  inferiors ;  that  which  you 
hate  in  your  inferiors,  do  not  practise  towards  your  su- 
periors ;  that  which  is  disgusting  in  those  before  you, 
do  not  set  before  those  behind  yon ;  what  is  unpleasant 
in  those  behind  you,  do  not  show  to  those  before  you ; 
what  is  base  to  those  on  your  right  hand,  do  not  mani- 
fest in  your  intercourse  with  those  on  your  left ;  what 
is  evil  in  those  on  your  left,  do  not  propose  to  those  on 
your  right  hand :  it  is  this  which  is  meant  by  that  line 
of  conduct  which  squares  perfectly  with  equity  and 
virtue.  .  .  .  When  the  sovereign  himself  reveres 
virtue,  it  is  impossible  that  his  subjects  should  forget 
the  respect  due  to  him.  When  the  people  duly  regard 
the  rights  of  the  sovereign,  it  is  impossible  that  the 
revenues  should  not  be  easily  collected;  and  equally 
impossible,  that  a  revenue  thus  collected  without  ex- 
tortion, should  not  be  deemed  sacred  to  the  sovereign's 


use. 


*» 


Such  are  the  extracts  which  I  have  thoug|||^  best  to 
lay  before  the  reader,  and  from  these  passages  the 
general  tenor  of  the  Oonfucian  philosophy  can  fairly 
be  inferred. 


W^^^^J^^ 


W 


m 


f 


iii^ 


I. 


JERUSALEM. 


We  are  treading  on  holy  ground.  We  are  now  seeking, 
by  the  too  feeble  efforts  of  the  pen^  to  trace  the  site 
of  those  regions  which  the  Saviour  of  mankind  has  for 
ever  hallowed  by  his  presence ;  we  are  attempting  to 
tell  the  story  of  God  in  his  real  descent  upon  the 
earth,  the  narrative  of  those  sufferings  which  the  Crea- 
tor underwent,  in  order  to  save  us  from  suffering. 

The  history  of  Jerusalem  is  unlike  all  other  histories. 
The  Jews  themselves  are,  to  tliis  day,  unlike  all  other 
people.  Scattered  and  distributed  throughout  the 
world — here  the  most  miserable  agents  of  the  vilest 
traffic — there,  the  princes  of  the  mercantile  world ;  in 

(191) 


m 


/ 


192 


ORE  AT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


\ 


one  place  robbed  of  the  commonest  rights  of  man,  In 
another  bartering  their  wealth  for  high  oflSce — the 
Jews,  in  their  cast-off  condition,  with  all  the  oppro- 
brium earned  for  them  by  the  wilful  misdeeds  and 
self-inflicted  blindness  of  their  forefathers,  are,  even  in 
our  own  times,  a  riddle  that  few  can  solve — an  ano- 
maly wondrous  for  its  internal  consistency,  and  its 
outward  variance  with  every  other  existing  creed. 

The  first  notice  of  Jerusalem  in  Scripture  is  mys- 
terious  and  interesting.  When  the  venerable  patriarch 
of  the  Jews  returned  from  his  victorious  pursuit  of  the 
kings  of  the  .plain,  Melchisedec,  the  king  of  Salem, 
came  forth  to  meet  him,  and  in  his  twofold  capacity  of 
priest  and  king,  pronounced  a  solemn  beneaUction 
upon  the  victorious  emir.  Hereupon  Abraham  filled 
with  pious  gratitude  for  the  victory  he  had  won^  gave 
Melchisedec  "  tithe  of  all."  j. 

Our  next  notice  of  Jerusalem,  under  its  prm^iname, 
is  connected  with  the  alliance  of  Adoni-aHB  with 
other  kings,  in  a  fruitless  attempt  against  ^tMn.  It 
is  again  mentioned  among  the  cities  of  Benjamin,  in 
describing  the  northern  boundary  of  Judah.  But  the 
most  important  event  before  the  time  of  David,  is  its 
capture  by  the  tribes  of  Judah  and  Simeon,  after 
which  time  we  find  the  Judahites  and  Benjamitea 
dwelling  together  at  Jerusalem,  witliout,  however,  suc- 
ceeding in  driving  out  the  Jebusites. 

But  it  is  in  the  reign  of  David  that  Jerusalem 
begins  to  be  of  real  importance  in  history.  The  tribe* 
of  Judah  could  proudly  point  to  Hebron  and  Macpelah 
us  places  of  high  and  holy  interest ;  and  their  influence 
bad  developed  itself  in  a  series  of  attempts  to  act 


\\ 


JERUSALEM. 


198 


independently  of  the  other  tribes.  The  blessing  of 
the  birthright,  which  had  departed  from  the  first-bom 
of  Jacob,  Reuben,  seems  to  have  been  considered  the 
property  of  Judah ;  and  although  the  Ephraimites 
might  claim  Shiloh  as  the  place  where  the  ark  of 
the  covenant  had  so  long  found  a  secure  habitation, 
Judah  kept  the  |)re-eroinence.  Of  this  tribe  was 
David ;  and  it  was  therefore  natural  that  he  would 
choose  a  royal  city  within  its  territories.  Jerusalem, 
being  nearer  the  other  tribes  than  any  other  which 
he  could  have  chosen  within  the  precincts  of  Judah, 
was  selected  for  the  purpose,  being,  moreover,  admi- 
rably qualified  by  the  strength  of  its  situation,  enclosed 
on  three  sides  by  a  natural  rench  of  valleys.  Although 
the  Divine  mandate  which  required  all  the  adult  males 
of  Israel  to  visit  the  place  of  the  Divine  presence  three 
timesln  t\^e  year,  rendered  this  situation  inconvenient 
for  lafcoy — an  inconvenience  which  seems  to  have 
paveoHk  way  to  the  subsequent  revolt  of  the  ten 
tribe^HR  to  the  setting  up  of  images  at  Dan  and 
Bethel;  still,  we  must  feel  persuaded  that  David, 
actuated  as  he  was  by  a  Divine  impulse,  and  directed 
by  the  immediate  communications  of  the  Deity,  must, 
have  had  ample  reasons  for  selecting  Jerusalem  as 
the  place  which  was  to  become  the  glory  of  his  own 
kingdom,  and  the  scene  of  the  most  important  change, 
the  most  absorbing  revolution  that  ever  agitated  the 
earth. 

Mount  Moriah,  already  rendered  fiimous  as  the  scene 
of  Abraham's  early  trial  of  faitli,  was  chosen  by  God 
as  the  site  of  his  temple,  thereby  confirming  the  choice 
David  had  made.     Thus,  under  his  successor,  Jerusa- 

17 


194 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


lem  became  not  only  the  royal  city,  but  the  very  seat 
and  centre  of  the  Jewish  theocracy — the  place  where 
the  Shechinah  sat  "between  the  cherubims,"  where 
the  glory  of  the  fiice  of  God  ever  regarded  his  people. 
It  was  of  this  place  that  Moses  had  said  :  "  The  place 
which  the  Lord  your  God  shall  choose  out  of  all  your 
tribes  to  put  his  name  there  ;  even  unto  his  habitation 
shall  ye  seek,  and  thither  shalt  thou  come."  Its 
importance  was  not  political  or  commercial ;  but  it 
was  a  favoured  spot  invested  with  every  charm  of  past 
promises  and  future  hopes,  its  prospects  were  sub- 
lime, and  its  name  became  even  proverbially  signi- 
ficant of  the  state  of  joy  into  which  faithful  believers 
who  had  "  persevered  unto  the  end,"  should  one  day 
enter. 

I  have  already  given,  in  my  article  on  Palmyra,  a 
sufficient  account  of  the  policy  which  actuated  Solomon 
in  the  administration  of  affairs,  and  of  th^prealth 
which,  amassed  by  his  father,  his  own  mJHBement 
enabled  him  to  retain.  Jerusalem  presented^Proppor- 
tunities  for  the  exercise  of  diplomacy,  still  less  for 
matters  of  traffic.  Nevertheless,  there  is  no  doubt 
that  the  magnificence  of  Solomon's  court,  honoured  by 
the  embassies,  sometimes  by  the  personal  visits  of 
royal  personages,  rendered  Jerusalem  a  centre  to  which 
the  rank  and  taste  of  the  wealthiest  classes  would 
naturally  direct  them.  The  details  respecting  the 
building  of  the  temple  furnish  us  with  a  probable 
notion  of  the  sumptuousness  which  would  prevail  in 
the  houses  of  the  great ;  and  the  character  of  the 
imports  which  formed  the  leading  traffic  of  Solomon's 


0f 


n 


"f^i^^ 


w 


v'^ 


JERUSALEM. 


197 


reign  proves  a  state  of  refinement  highly  advanced,  if 
not  a  considerable  progress  towards  a  taste  for  art. 

The   Psalms   of  David   are  replete  with  passages 
proving  that  the  affections  which  linked  Jerusalem  to 
the  mind  of  the  king  were  of  the  tenderest  kind ;  and, 
although  a  calculating  coldness  may  have  seemed  to 
form  a  conspicuous  feature  in  the  character  of  Solo- 
mon, we  have  no  reason  for  supposing  him  insensible 
to  impressions  which  had  directed  the  life,  and  inspired 
the  strains   of  his  royal   father.     Earnestly  bent  on 
carrying   out  the  design  which   had  been  the  thing 
most  at  heart  with  his  sire,  his  taste  led  him  to  seek 
for   the   best   artificers,   while   his   perseverance   and 
business-like  disposition   would   be  equally  useful   in 
enforcing  the  ready  execution  of  a  plan  so  magnifi- 
cently conceived.     "  And  it  came  to  pass,  when  Solo- 
mon  had  finished  the  building  of  the  house  of  the 
Lord,  and  the  king's  house,  and  all  Solomon's  desire 
which  ^  was  pleased  to  do,  that  the  Lord,  appeared 
to  Sollipon  a  second  time  as  he  had  appeared  unto 
him   at   Gibeon.     And   the   Lord   said   unto   him,  I 
have  heard  thy  prayer  and  thy  supplication  that  thou 
hast  made  before  me :  I  have  hallowed  this  house  which 
thou  hast  built,  to  put  my  name  there  for  ever,  and 
mine  eyes  and  my  heart  shall  be  there  perpetually." 

But  the  splendour  and  magnificence  which  had 
merited  these  warm  encpmiums  from  the  God  whom 
they  were  designed  to  honour,  sank  visibly  during  the 
subsequent  reign  of  Rehoboam.  This  prince  was  at 
once  unfortunate  and  impolitic.  The  growing  jealousy 
of  the  house  of  Ephraim,  to  Avhich  I  have  already 
referred,  doubtless  tended  to  bring  about  the  separa- 


1  r;\ 


198 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   \VORLD. 


i 


tion  of  the  ten  tribes :  but  the  imprudent  and  tyrannical 
reply  of  the  new  king,  declaring  that  he  would  increase 
the  burdens  of  which  the  people  already  complained, 
no  doubt  accelerated  the  unfortunate  event.  Jerusa- 
lem thus  became  the  capital  only  of  the  small  state 
of  Judah ;  and  when  Jeroboam,  the  king  of  the  new 
confederation  of  the  revolted  tribes,  set  up  symbolical 
images  for  worship  at  Dan  and  Bethel,  the  customary 
visits  to  the  house  of  God  were  discontinued,  and 
the  glory  of  the  temple  faded  like  that  of  the  city. 
Probably  as  a  rebuke  to  the  negligent  character  of 
Kehoboam,  who  showed  a  tendency  to  the  idolatry 
of  the  surrounding  nations,  Shishak,  king  of  Egypt, 
was  permitted  to  conquer  the  city,  and  pillage  the 
treasures  of  the  temple ;  and  under  succeeding  kings  it 
sustained  considerable  loss  and  spoliation. 

Hezekiah,  a  prince  of  a  mild  yet  steadfast  policy, 
bestowed  great  pains  upon  the  improvement  of  Jerusa- 
lem, especially  by  stopping  the  upper  courjiteof  the 
Gihon,  and  bringing  its  waters  to  the  western  side  of 
the  city  by  means  of  n  subterraneous  aqueduct.  His 
son  Manasseh,  whose  earlier  reign  had  been  disgraced 
by  idolatry,  and  saddened  by  its  punishment,  showed 
his  repentance  at  a  later  period  of  life  by  adorning  the 
city  of  the  Lord,  especially  by  throwing  up  a  high 
wall  on  ,the  western  side. 

But  the  vacillating  and  fickle  minds  of  the  Jews, 
swayed  by  indolent  and  prolligate  leaders,  fell  gra- 
dually deeper  and  deeper  into  the  defilements  of 
idolatry.  The  emphatic  behest  of  their  old  lawgiver, 
that  they  should  "  observe  to  do  all  the  words  of  this 
law  that  are  written  in  this  book,  that  they  might  fear 


f\ 


>*  *  fif ._ 


JERUSALEM. 


«a 


199 


this  glorious  and  fearful  nnuie,  the  Lord  thy  God," 
was  forgotten  or  unheeded  ;  and  the  threatened  scourge 
of  their  disobedience  descended  in  the  person  of  Nebu- 
chadnezzar, who  razed  the  walls  of  Jerusalem  to  the 
ground,  and  ravaged  its  temple  and  palaces  with  firo 
and  sword. 

In  the  fourth  year  of  the  reign  of  Jehoiachim, 
Jeremiah  having  vainly  sought  to  withdraw  the  people 
from  their  sins,  God  commanded  him  to  write  in  a 
roll  all  the  words  of  prophecy  which  he  had  spoken 
against  Israel  and  Judah,  from  the  thirteenth  year  of 
Josiah's  reign,  when  he  was  first  called  to  the  pro- 
phetic oflice.  Baruch,  his  scribe,  wrote  them  from 
his  master's  dictation ;  and,  as  Jeremiah  was  still  in 
prison  for  having  denounced  the  future  punishments 
that  awaited  the  Jews,  he  read  them  in  the  hearing 
of  all  the  people,  whilst  assembled  together  on  the 
great  day  of  expiation.  Ominous  was  the  choice  of 
this  da|^or  the  declaration  of  prophecies  fraught  with 
«o  niucn  of  pain  and  terror  ! 

When  Judah  was  thus  transported  to  Babylon,  the 
other  ten  tribes  of  Israel  had  already  bewailed  for 
upwards  of  130  years  their  captivity  in  Assyria. 
Melancholy  wus  the  desolation  that  told  where  the 
conquering  host  of  Nebuchadnezzar  had  been.  The 
castle  of  David,  Solomon's  temple,  and  the  entire  city 
presented  nought  save  heaps  of  charred  and  blackened 
ruins,  and  it  seemed  as  though  the  holy  city  and  the 
chosen  people  of  God  had  come  to  an  end.  Yet  did 
the  Lord  "  turn  again,  look  down  from  heaven,  and 
behold,  and  visit  this  vine." 

I  will  not  enter  into  a  detailed  account  of  the  pro- 


200 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


\ 


phecies,  which,  even  from  the  time  of  Moses,  had 
promised  the  restoration  of  the  Jews  to  the  land  from 
which  their  own  disobedience  had  estranged  them,  nor 
will  our  pages  admit  of  a  description  cl  the  various 
circumstances  attendant  on  their  restoration  under 
Cyrus  and  Darius  Hystaspis.  Those  prophets,  who 
flourished  after  the  exile  to  Babylon,  unite  in  magni- 
ficent predictions  respecting  the  future  glory  of  the 
new  temple  and  city.  But  although  the  dimensions  of 
the  new  temple  probably  exceeded  those  of  the  one 
built  by  Solomon,  it  lacked  certain  features  by  which, 
in  happier  days,  the  favours  of  God  had  been  mani- 
festly and  immediately  declared.  The  Ark  of  the 
Covenant  and  the  Mercy  Seat ;  the  Shekinah,  or  divine 
glory ;  the  Uriro  and  Thummim ;  the  Holy  unquencli- 
able  fire  upon  the  altar ;  and  the  spirit  of  prophecy — 
all  these  gifts  had  departed  from  the  priesthood,  gifts 
for  which  no  grandeur  of  dimensions,  no  splendour  of 
decoration,  could  compensate.  Well  therefcMi  might 
God  say,  "  who  is  left  among  you  that  saw  t^s  house 
in  her  first  glory  ?  and  how  do  ye  see  it  now  ?  is  it 
not  in  your  eyes  in  comparison  of  it  as  nothing  ?" 

After  the  death  of  Alexander  the  Great,  Ptolemy 
took  Jerusalem  by  surprise,  plundered  the  city,  iind 
carried  many  Jews  into  captivity  in  Egypt.  Under 
the  mild  dominion  of  the  Ptolemies,  they  subsequently 
enjoyed  tranquillity,  and  an  uninterrupted  freedom  in 
following  their  own  religion.  At  the  termination,  how- 
ever, of  the  war  waged  against  the  Egyptians  and 
Antiochus  the  Great,  the  Jews,  who  had  latterly 
favoured  the  cause  of  that  enterprising  general,  were 
rewarded  by  him  with  several  important  privileges. 


*  \ 


JERUSALEM. 


201 


He  directed  that  the  outworks  of  the  temple  should  be 
completed,  and  that  all  materials  for  the  requisite 
repairs  should  be  exempt  from  taxation.  He  also  paid 
particular  attention  to  enforcing  a  strict  observance  of 
the  sanctity  of  the  temple.  No  foreigner  was  allowed 
to  pass  the  sacred  precinct ;  and  the  city  itself  was  to 
be  protected  from  the  pollution  of  bringing  the  flesh  or 
Bkins  of  unclean  boasts  within  its  walls. 

But  the  peace  and  tranquillity  which  the  Jews  had 
enjoyed  under  the  mild  and  liberal  sway  of  Antiochus 
wns  not  of  long  duration.  Antiochus  Epiphanes  formed 
the  design  of  amalgamating  the  Jews  with  other  na- 
tions by  a  conformity  in  manners  and  religion ;  in  a 
word,  by  destroying  the  individualities  which  had 
marked  the  Jews  for  a  distinct  and  exclusive  people. 
To  the  jealous  conservative  principles  of  the  Jews,  any 
swerving  from  the  systems  of  their  forefathers  was 
odious  in  tiie  extreme,  and  those  Jews  who  seemed  to 
favour  the  project  were  disgraced  and  expelled  with 
ignominy.  Tlie  supposed  death  of  Antiochus  in  Egypt 
proved  a  false  rumour,  and  bitterly  did  he  retaliate 
upon  the  Jews  for  the  rejoicing  to  which  they  had 
given  way  on  hearing  the  news.  Two  years  after,  dis- 
appointed in  his  attempts  against  Egypt,  he,  in  a  fit  of 
ill-humour,  sent  his  chief  collector  of  a  tribute,  Apol- 
lonius,  with  22,000  men,  who  pillaged  the  city,  razed 
its  walls,  and  built  with  the  stones  a  citadel  that  over- 
looked the  temple  mount.  A  statue  of  Jupiter  was  set 
up  in  tlie  temple,  and  daily  sacrifices  were  discontinued, 
and  priests  and  people  sought  a  refuge  from  persecu- 
tion by  quitting  the  profaned  and  desolated  city. 

At  this  juncture,  when  Jerusalem  seemed  well  nigh 


/ 


202 


JREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


\ 


.  ruined,  and  when  God  and  man  alike  seemed  to  have 
left  her  to  her  fate,  one  of  those  wondrous  instances  of 
personal  valour  and  energy,  which  appear  at  rare  inter- 
vals in  the  pages  of  history,  assisted  the  progress  of 
mischief,  and  aroused  the  failing  spirits  of  the  Jews. 
The  name  of  the  Maccabees  must  live  forever  in  the 
annals  of  men's  best  deeds.  With  the  three  hundred 
at  Thermopylaj,  with  the  Fabii  of  old  Rome,  Judas 
and  his  valiant  followers  will  ever  occupy  a  niche  in 
the  archives  of  history,  of  which  no  worthier  claimant 
can  dispossess  them.  To  detail  the  instances  of  indi- 
vidual courage,  and  the  battles  sustained  by  this  little 
band  against  vast  hosts  of  barbarian  forces,  were  a 
fitting  theme  for  a  Macaulay.  After  a  fearful  scene 
of  struggle  and  slaughter  Jerusalem  was  retaken,  the 
temple  repaired  and  purified,  the  heathen  abominations 
cast  out,  and  the  original  worship  restored.  Neverthe- 
less, the  Syrians  retained  possession  of  the  castle,  and 
proved  a  continiial  source  of  annoyance  to  the  Jews  till 
B.  c.  142,  when  Simon  forced  the  garrison,  and  demol- 
ished the  castle.     He  then  fortified  the  mountain  on 

• 

which  the  temple  stood,  and  built  there  a  palace  for 
himself,  which  became  the  reguliir  residence  of  the 
Maccabseau  princes.  John  Hyrcanus  turned  this  into 
a  fortress,  which  is  called  by  Josephus,  "  the  castle  of 
Baris."  At  a  subsequent  period  it  was  strengthened 
and  enlarged  by  Herod  the  Great,  under  the  name  of 
the  castle  of  Antonia. 

In  the  summer  of  B.  c.  63,  Pompey  surprised  the 
Jews  whilst  celebrating  a  solemn  fast  in  commemora- 
tion of  the  conquest  by  Nebuchadnezzar.  One  thou- 
sand two  hundred  Jews  were  massacred  in  the  temple 


K"** 

r 


t 


JERUSALKM. 


205 


courts,  and  many  of  tho  pricsfs  dicil  ut  the  altar  rather 
than  suspend  tho  pcrrorniance  (»/  the  sacred  rites.  He 
did  not,  however,  pi  Mage  the  sanctuary  of  its  treasures, 
but  what  ho  had  spared  were  seized  a  few  years  after 
by  Crassutj,  «.  r.  51.  In  H.  c.  43,  the  walls  of  the 
city,  whicii  Pompey  had  demolished,  were  rebuilt  by 
Antipater,  the  father  of  that  Herod  tho  Great,  under 
whom  Jerusalem  assumed  a  new  and  magnificent  ap- 
pearance. It  is  this  Jerusalem  that  Josephus  describes ; 
and,  by  way  of  breaking  tho  uniformity  of  a  connected 
hi'uory,  we  will  quote  his  account  of  the  gradual  exten- 
sion of  Jerusalem  from  its  first  conquest  to  its  enlarge- 
ment under  Herod : — 

"  The  city  was  built  on  two  hills,  which  are  opposite 
to  each  other,  having  a  valley  to  divide  them  asunder ; 
at  which  valley  the  corresponding  rows  of  houses  termi- 
nate. Of  these  hills,  that  which  contains  the  upper 
city  is  much  higher,  and  in  length  more  direct.  Ac- 
cordingly, it  was  called  the  *the  citadel,'  by  King 
David :  he  was  the  father  of  that  Solomon  who  built 
this  temple  at  first ;  but  it  is  by  us  called  '  the  upper 
market-place.'  But  the  other  hill,  wliich  is  called 
*  Acra,'  and  sustains  the  lower  city,  is  of  the  shape  of 
the  moon  when  she  is  horned ;  over  against  this  there 
was  a  third  hill,  but  naturally  lower  than  Acra,  and 
parted,  formerly,  from  the  other  by  a  broad  valley. 
In  the  time  when  the  Asmonians  reigned,  they  filled 
up  that  valley  with  earth,  and  had  a  mind  to  join  tho 
city  to  the  temple.  They  then  took  off  part  of  the 
height  of  Acra,  and  reduced  it  to  a  less  elevation  than 
it  was  before,  that  the  temple  might  be  above  it.  Now 
the  valley  of  the  cheesemongers,  as  it  was  called,  was 

18 


206 


OUKAT    flTIKri    OF   THE    WOllLP. 


i 


that  which  <li.stln"niiHhoil  the  hill  of  the  upper  city  from 
thnt  of  the  lower,  iiiui  extended  as  far  as  Siloiun  ;  for 
that  ivS  the  luiioe  of  a  fuuotain  whieh  hath  sweet  water 
in  it,  and  this  in  f:,voi\{.  plenty  also. 

"Unt  on  the  outsiihvs,  these  hills  are  surrounded  by 
deep  valleys,  and,  by  reasoti  of  the  pveeipices  belonging 
to  them  on  bi)tli  sides,  are  every  where  impassable." 
"As  the  eity  grew  more  populous,  it  gradu- 
ally crept  behind  its  old  limits,  and  those  parts  of  it 
that  stood  northward  of  the  temple,  and  joined  that 
hill  to  the  eity,  made  it  considerably  larger,  and  occa- 
sioned that  hill  which  is  in  nmuber  the  fourth,  and  is 
called  •Be/ethn,'  to  be  inhabited  also.  It  lies  over 
against  the  tower  Antonia,  but  is  divided  from  it  by  a 
deep  valh\v,  which  W'as  dug  on  purpose.  This  new  built 
part  of  the  city  was  called  '  Bezethe,'  in  our  language, 
wliich  if  interpreted  in  the  Greeian  language,  may  bo 
called  'the  new  eitv.' 

The  Jews  were  at  first  afraid  of  Merod's  proposal  to 
pull  down  the  old  temple,  lest  he  should  not  be  able  to 
rebuild  it.  ])Ut  ho,  wishing  to  calm  their  fears  on  this 
head,  promised  not  to  meddle  with  the  old  structure, 
until  the  materials  were  collected,  ami  the  arrangements 
completed,  f«>r  building  the  new.  ,h\i^t  fortv-six  years 
before  tlio  iirst  passover  of  our  Lord's  ministry  was 
the  work  eonmieneed.  and  even  then  it  was  by  no 
means  lii.'shed.  Of  its  magnificence  Scripture  fur- 
nishes us  wiih  abundant  testimony,  and  a  Pagan  writer 
describes  Jerusalem  at  this  period  as*"  far  the  most 
splendid  city,   not  of  Judea  only,  but  of  the  whole 

East."  "      .  "     .  •     ^-        ...:.y   . 

But  the  restoi*ation  of  Jerusalem  to  a  state  of  gran- 


JERUSAl.FM. 


207 


dcur  equalling  that  of  its  most  prosperous  days  was 
but  the  brilliant  scintillation  of  glowing;  heat  that 
prccodod  its  speedy  extinction.  We  will  not  repeat  the 
pad  and  gloomy  story  of  the  Second  Full  of  Man. 
We  will  not — rife  as  is  every  corner  of  Jerusalem  with 
the  memorials  of  such  associations — recall  back  the 
awful  story  of  the  death  of  Ilim  whose  blood  was  shed 
at  Calvary.  Such  details  nnist  be  reserved  for  the 
historian  of  Christ's  earthly  career.  lict  us,  however, 
trace  the  fulfilment  of  those  soul  harrowing  prophecies 
that  the  son  of  man  hurled  forth  against  "his  own, 
unto  whom  ho  came,  and  his  own  received  him  not." 

Terrific  was  the  season  of  carnage  and  destruction 
that  set  in.  Domestic  murder,  famine  in  its  most 
revolting  forms,  fire,  prodigies  denouncing  the  wrath 
of  Heaven,  superstition  exaggerating  those  prodigies — 
a  resistless  host  at  the  gates,  starvation  and  anarchy 
within — such  was  the  ghastly  scene  that  painted  the  ful- 
filment of  Christ's  prophecies  in  letters  of  blood  with  a 
torch  of  fire.  The  very  ingenuity  of  horror  itself  seemed 
exhausted  in  pouring  woes  upon  the  devoted  city — the 
desperate  valour,  stubborn  perseverance,  and  barbarous 
cruelty  which  animated  both  sides,  fill  the  pages  of 
voluminous  history,  but  defy  description  even  of  the 
most  detailed  chfiracter.  .  , 

A  few  families  still  remained  amid  the  ruins  of 
Jerusalem,  and  they  were  comparatively  unmolested. 
But  though  still  under  the  yoke  of  a  garrison,  and 
themselves  miserably  reduced  in  numbers  and  resources, 
the  native  stubbornness  of  the  Jews  led  them  to 
hope  for  an  opportunity  of  shaking  oif  the  Roman 
yoke.     Adrian,  prubably  aware  of  this  turbulent  dis- 


' », 


208 


GREAT  CITIEvS  OF  HUK  WOULD. 


position,  attempted  to  rebuild  Jerusalem  aa  a  fortified 
city,  with  a  view  of  keeping  the  Jews  in  check. 
Unwilling  that  strangers  and  heathen  deities  should 
again  defile  their  precincts,  the  Jews  broke  out  into 
open  rebellion  under  Barchochebas,  one  of  the  impostors 
who  had  pretended  to  be  the  Messiah.  They  were  at 
first  successful,  but  a  war  ensued,  little  inferior  to  the 
last  in  its  horrors,  and  Jerusalem  was  retaken  in 
A.  D.  135.  It  was  now  made  a  Roman  colony,  inha- 
bited wholly  by  foreigners,  and  it  was  made  death  for 
its  own  inhabitants  to  approach  it.  Mount  Moriah, 
where  Abraham  had  earned  the  Jews  their  proud 
position  as  children  of  God,  was  now  the  site  of  a 
temple  to  Jupiter  Capitolinus.  Even  the  old  name 
was  supplanted  by  that  of  Aelia  Capitolina. 

Jerusalem  remained  a  blank  in  history  till  the  year 
A.  D.  326,  when  Helena,  the  mother  of  Constantine, 
then  in  the  eightieth  year  of  her  age,  undertook  a 
pilgrimage  thither,  and  built  churches  on  the  supposed 
site  of  the  nativity  at  Bethlehem,  and  of  the  resurrec- 
tion on  the  Mount  of  Olives,  Stimulated  by  her 
example,  Constantine  commenced  an  eager  search  after 
the  Holy  Sepulchre,  and  built  a  magnificent  church 
over  the  sacred  site,  which  was  solemnly  dedicated 
A.  i>.  335.  One  day  in  the  year  the  Jews  were  permit- 
ted to  enter  the  citv  to  bewail  the  desolation  of  "  the 
holy  and  beautiful  house"  in  which  their  fathers  had 
worshipped  God. 

In  the  succeeding  centuries  the  roads  to  Zion  were 
thronged  with  cavalcades  of  pilgrims,  and  the  neigh- 
bourhood abounded  in  monasteries,  filled  with  those  who 
had  changed  the  toils  and  vices  of  the  world  for  a 


JERUSALEM. 


209 


le 


ppccicus  sanctity  and  an  austere  retirement.  In  A.  D. 
4ol  Jerusalem  tvas  declared  a  patriarchate  by  the 
Council  of  Chalcedon,  and  in  A.  D.  527  Justinian  built 
a  magnificent  chapel  upon  Mount  Moriah  in  honour  of 
the  Virgin. 

The  Persians,  and  subsequently  the  Arabians,  neces- 
sarily, became  masters  of  Jerusalem,  and  the  Moslem 
yoke  pressed  with  severe  and  extortionate  hands  upon 
the  pilgrims  who  flocked  thither.  The  cruelties  and 
exorbitant  demands  of  the  Turks,  who  had  dispossessed 
the  Khaliffs  of  Egypt  in  A.  D.  1073,  gave  an  imme- 
diate impulse  to  that  most  extraordinary  of  undertak- 
ings— the  Crusades. 

The  idea  of  a  holy  war  against  :he  infidels  who  thus 
barred  Jerusalem  against  the  approach  of  the  faithful, 
had  previously  occurred  to  Pope  Gregory  VII.  But 
it  was  not  until  the  preaching  of  Peter  the  Hermit, 
that  the  project  met  with  any  warm  reception  or 
support.  This  extraordinary  man,  during  a  voyage 
through  Palestine,  had  observed  with  anguish  the 
harassment  and  persecutions  undergone  by  the  Chris- 
tians, and,  inflamed  by  an  holy  indignation,  which 
he,  doubtless,  regarded  as  immediately  inspired  by 
Heaven,  he  implored  Pope  Urban  II.  to  interfere  on 
behalf  of  the  faithful,  but  without  68*601.  Nought 
discouraged,  the  enthusiastic  monk  travelled  through 
the  countries  of  Europe  "sounding  the  alarm  of  a 
holy  war  against  the  infidel  nations,  and  exhorting  all 
Christian  princes  to  draw  the  sword  against  the 
tyrants  of  Palestine ;  nor  did  ho  stop  here,  but  with  a 
view  to  engage  the  superstitious  and  ignorant  multi- 
•tude  in  his  cause,  he  carried  about  with  him  a  letter, 


210 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


which  he  said  was  written  in  hcuven,  and  addressed 
from  thence  to  all  true  Christians,  to  animate  their 
zeal  for  the  deliverance  of  ihcir  brethren,  who  groaned 
under  the  oppressive  burden  <tf  a  Mahometan  yoke." 

Urban  II.,  who  had  probablv  cared  very  little  about 
the  matter  previously,  no  sooner  found  that  the  work 
was  half  accomplished  than  lie  evinced  a  sudden  zeal 
for  the  undertaking.  Ilavin;;  assembled  a  numerous 
synod  at  Placentia  (a.  d.  1095,)  he  urged  the  holy 
carnage  with  all  the  authority  that  his  dignity  or  his 
eloquence  could  furnish.  Nevertheless,  a  great  part  of 
his  hearers  seemed  to  hang  back,  and  it  was  not  until 
the  council  held  at  Clermont,  a  city  of  Auvergne,  that 
his  pompous  and  pathetic  language  had  the  desired 
effect. 

The  first  enterprise,  headed  by  Peter  the  Hermit  in 
person,  came  to  an  end  as  ridiculous  as  the  character 
of  the  troops  he  led  would  naturally  lead  one  to  expect. 
Drafted  off,  without  discrimination,  from  the  lowest 
ranks  of  society,  without  discipline,  and  without  any 
motive  save  the  hope  of  pillage,  this  "  ragged  regi- 
ment" committed  such  enormities  during  their  march 
through  Hungary  and  Thrace,  that  they  were  soon  cut 
to  pieces.  No  other  result  could  have  been  expected 
from  the  idle  rabble  of  a  set  of  unprincipled  fiinatics, 
headed  by  a  man  whose  enthusiasm  was  no  guarantee 
for  his  capability  to  command. 

But  the  Crusades,  fortunately  for  the  small  amount 
of  real  credit  they  deserve,  were  not  left  long  to  such 
conduct.  A  well  organised  force  of  80,000,  horse  and 
foot,  were  enlisted  under  the  command  of  Godfrey  of 
Bouillon,  Duke  of  Lorraine,  and  his  brother  Baldwin,  , 


''  « 

B' 

I^H 

1 

'9 

1 

:f\ 


JERUSALEM. 


218 


and  variou8  other  detachments,  equally  well  headed, 
continued  to  reinforce  the  expedition. 

It  is  probable  tliat  few  persons  at  the  present  day 
feel  much  sympathy  in  the  motives  which  led  to  the 
Crusades,  or  in  the  undertaking  itself.  But  whatever 
Aiews  may  be  entertained  as  to  the  policy  of  the 
attempt,  whatever  doubts  may  fairly  exist  as  to  the 
sincerity  of  some  of  its  promoters — one  character  must 
stand  forth  on  the  page  of  history.  Deeply  associated 
with  the  tender  chivalry  of  Tasso,  blending  all  the 
prowess  of  the  hardy  chieftain  of  early  history  with 
the  not  unpleasing  marvels  of  ancient  legend,  Godfrey 
de  Bouillon  must  ever  live  in  our  recollection,  and  must 
ever  be  remembered  as  the  hero  and  the  Christian. 

This  "  brilliant  mirror  of  Christian  nobility,  in  which, 
as  in  a  splendid  ceiling,  the  lustre  of  every  virtue  was 
reflected,"  joined  gigantic  bodily  strength  and  heroic 
prowess  with  a  humane  and  pious  disposition,  in  which 
practicarhumility  shone  without  ostentation.    Vigorous 
in  pursuing  an  advantage,  wary  in  securing  his  own 
forces,  and  merciful  in  his  treatment  of  the  vanquished, 
Godfrey  found  himself  in  victorious  possession  of  Jeru- 
salem, and  the  unanimous  voice  of  the  combined  forces 
declared  him    King.     But   although   he  received  the 
regal  dignity  thus  conferred,  he  declined  the  symbol  of 
royalty,  declaring  that  "  it  were  too  great  arrogance 
for  him  to  be  crowned  for  glory,  in  that  city,  in  which 
God  had   been    crowned    in   mockery."     But  he  was 
not  destined  to  enjoy  his  honours  long.     An  herculean 
frame  was  no  defence  iigainst  the  wear  and  tear  of 
hard  service,   or  the  baleful  efiVcts   of  a  climate  so 
different  from  his  own,  and  he  died  calmly  in  his  bed 


Him 


214 


dUEAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WOPtLD. 


the  next  year,  surrounded  by  weeping  friends,  and 
leaving  a  reputation  tarnished  with  few  of  the  vices 
wliich  are  ever  wont  to  sully  the  name  of  conqueror. 

In  A.  D.  1187  the  Christians  lost  possession  of  Jeru- 
Siilcm,  and  the  Cross  was  prostrated  beneath  the  Cres- 
cent under  the  victorious  Saladin.  Richard  the  First 
proved  unsuccessful  in  his  attempts  to  wrest  the  holy 
city  from  the  hands  of  the  infidels,  Saladin  having 
strengthened  it  with  additional  fortifications.  Few 
events  of  importance  occurred  afterwt'.rds  beyond  the 
occasional  de^^truction  or  rebuilding  of  the  city  walls 
(according  to  the  policy  of  its  respective  Mohammedan 
masters ;)  and  although  mount  Zion  now  boasts  a 
Christian  church  capable  of  holding  500  persons, 
although  a  bishoprick  has  been  established  by  the 
Prussian  government  and  the  British,  Jerusalem  is  to 
this  dav  in  the  hands  of  the  Unfaithful. 

The  following  picture  of  Jerusalem,  as  seen  .from  the 
Mount  of  Olives,  is  by  Buckingham  : — 

"Reposing  bencnth  tlio  shade  of  an  olive-tree,  upon 
the  brow  of  this  hill  (the  !Mount  of  Olives,)  we  enjoyed 
from  hence  a  fine  prospect  of  Jerusalem  on  tiie  o]. no- 
site  one.  This  city  occupies  an  irregular  squaiH-,  of 
about  two  miles  and  a  half  iu  ciicumfereiice.  Its 
shortest  apparent  side  is  that  which  faces  the  east,  and 
in  this  is  the  supposed  gate  of  the  ancient  tcniple, 
now  closed  up,  and  the  small  [jrojccting  f-tone  on 
which  Mohammed  is  to  sit  when  the  world  is  to  Ijo 
assembled  to  judgment  iu  the  vale  ])elow.  The  southern 
side  is  exceedino-lv  ii-rc^'ular.  takin;*;  ciuite  a  zin-za'' 
direction;  the  south-v.est  extreme  being  teruiinatod  by 
the  mosque  built  over  the  KU])posed  sepulcliie  of  David, 


US 
o 


w 


w 


M^' 


\  i 


JERUSALEM. ' 


217 


on  the  summit  of  Mount  Sion.  The  form  and  exact 
direction  of  the  western  and  southern  walls,  are  not 
distinctly  seen  from  hence ;  but  every  part  of  this 
iippcars  to  be  a  modern  work,  and  executed  at  the  same 
time.  The  walls  are  flanked  at  irregular  distances 
by  square  towers,  and  have  battlements  running  all 
around  on  their  summits,  with  loopholes  for  arrows  or 
musketry  close  to  the  top.  The  walls  appear  to  bo 
about  fifty  feet  in  height,  but  are  not  surrounded  by  a 
ditch.  The  northern  wall  runs  over  slightly  declining 
ground  ;  the  eastern  wall  runs  straight  along  the  brow 
of  Mount  Moriah,  with  the  deep  valley  of  Jehoshaphat 
below ;  the  southern  wall  runs  over  the  summit  of  tho 
iiill  assumed  as  Mount  Sion,  with  the  vale  of  the  Hin- 
nom  at  its  feet ;  and  the  western  wall  runs  along  on 
more  level  ground,  near  the  summit  of  tho  high  and 
stony  mountains  over  which  we  had  first  approached 
the  town.  As  the  city  is  thus  seated  on  the  brow  of 
one  large  hill  divided  by  name  into  several  smaller 
hills,  and  the  whole  of  these  slope  gently  down  towards 
the  east,  this  view,  from  the  Mount  of  Olives,  a  position 
of  greater  height  than  that  on  which  the  highest  part 
of  the  city  stands,  commands  nearly  the  whole  of  it 
at  once. 

"  On  the  north  it  is  bounded  by  a  level  and  appa- 
rently fertile  space,  now  covered  with  olive-trees,  par- 
ticularly near  the  northeast  angle.  On  the  soutli, 
the  steep  side  of  Mount  Sion,  and  tho  valley  of  Ilinnom, 
both  show  patches  of  cultivation,  and  little  garden 
enclosures.  On  tho  west,  the  sterile  summits  of  tho 
hills  there,  barely  lift  their  outlines  above  the  dwell- 
ings.   And  on  the  east,  the  deep  valley  of  Jehoshaphat, 

19 


/: 


I 


wmmmmmmmmmmm 


OMEAT  CITIKd  (;F  Till:  WullI.U. 


HOW  at  our  feet,  lias  S(»nio  purtiul  spots  relieved  by 
trees,  tliougli  as  forbidding  iti  its  genonil  aspoct  as  tlio 
vale  of  death  would  ever  be  deaire*)  to  be  by  those  who 
have  chosen  it  for  the  place  of  their  interment. 

"  Within  the  walls  of  the  city  are  seen  crowded 
dwelliu/^s  remarkable  in  no  respect  except  being  ter- 
raced by  flat  roofs,  and  generally  bnilt  of  stone.  On 
th(»  south  are  some  gardens  and  vineyards,  with  the 
long  red  inostpie  of  Al  Sakhara,  having  two  tiers 
of  windows,  a  sloping  roof,  and  a  dark  dome  at  one 
end,  and  the  mosque  of  Sion  and  the  sepulchre  of 
David  in  the  same  qiuirter.  On  the  west  is  seen  the 
high,  square  castle,  and  palace  of  the  same  monarch, 
near  the  Hethlehem  gate.  In  the  centre,  rise  the  two 
cupolas  of  unequal  form  and  size ;  the  one  blue,  and 
tlie  other  white,  covering  the  church  of  the  Holy 
Bepulchrc.  Around,  in  different  directions,  are  seen 
the  minarets  of  eight  or  ten  mosques,  amid  an  assem- 
blage of  about  two  thousand  dwellings;  and  on  tin* 
east,  is  seated  the  great  mosque  of  Al  Harron,  or,  n^ 
called  by  Christians,  the  mosque  of  Solomon,  from 
being  supposed,  with  that  of  Al  Sakhara  near  it,  to 
occupy  the  site  of  the  ancient  temple  of  that  splendid 
and  luxurious  king." 

'*  The  Christian  pilgrim,  approaching  JoDisalem  for 
the  first  time,  will  probably  bo  disappointed  to  find 
that  his  emotions,  on  the  first  sight  of  a  city  associated 
in  his  mind  from  his  earliest  infancy  with  nil  that  is 
most  sacred,  are  so  much  less  intense  than  he  antici- 
pated, and  that  he  can  look  upon  Mount  Olivet  and 
jMount  Sion  with  feelings,  certainly  not  of  indifference, 
but  of  much  less  painfid   interest   than   he  imagined 


N 


i^t 


JERUSALEM. 


219 


possible,  when  lio  thought  on  thcin  at  a  distance.  The 
trutli  is,  the  evet  ts  transacted  liero  arc  ho  great  in 
every  view  tli.it  the  mind  cannot  ut  once  ^rasp  them ; 
]»ut  is,  as  it  vei-e,  stupificd  by  the  effort ;  it  takes  time 
to  realize  the  truth,  that  this  is  the  home  of  Scripture 
historv,  the  cnidlc  of  the  Christian  Church.  IJut  the 
feelin<5  of  attacliincnt  to  the  Holy  City  and  its  sacrc«l 
localities,  Avill  soon  he  formed,  and  will  be  deepened  by 
time,  to  a  culm  satisfaction,  a  peaceful  resting  in  it  as 
the  homo  of  one's  affections,  which  no  other  spot  on 
earth  can  impart.  For  there  is  a  halo  about  Jerusalem, 
an  atmosphere  which  one  drinks  in,  not  only  on  the 
mountains  around,  but  even  amid  its  crumbling  ruins, 
which  has  an  untold  charm. 

*'  Journeying  from  the  west,  the  traveller  will  come 
in  sight  of  the  city  about  a  mile  from  the  gates,  where 
it  presents  its  least  imposing  aspect — merely  a  dull  line 
of  wall,  with  the  Mount  of  Olives  rising  above.  IIo 
will,  perhaps,  have  rem'  jf  the  desolate  appearance  of 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  city :  it  is  sometimes  said  to 
resemble  a  city  of  the  dead.  Travellers  who  have  so 
written,  must  havt'  i)een  singularly  unfortunate  in  the 
time  of  the  year ;  nothing  can  well  be  imagined  more 
lively  than  the  scene  without  the  Jaffa  Gate.  It  is 
then  that  the  inhabitants,  of  whatever  nation  and 
whatever  faith,  walk  out  to  '  drink  the  air,'  as  they 
express  it ;  and  the  various  companies  may  bo  seen 
sauntering  about  or  reclining  on  the  ground.  Q'ho 
appearance  of  the  females,  indeed,  is  somcAvhat  spec- 
tral, for  a  white  sheet  thrown  loosely  over  their 
handsome  dresses,  and  their  yellow  boots,  is  all  that 
is  distinguisliable  ;  but  the  merry  laugh  may  be  heard 


y 


m 


220 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


among  them,  and,  with  the  music  of  their  <;...kling 
ornaments,'  would  serve  to  convince  the  strunger  that 
they  were  veritable  daughters  of  Eve.  lie  will  see 
little  of  the  desolation  of  Jerusalem  here :  but  let  him 
enter  the  gates,  and  the  delusion  which  its  compact 
and  well-built  walls,  and  the  appearance  of  its  inhabi- 
tants, may  have  produced,  will  be  quickly  dispelled. 

"  He  no  sooner  enters  the  city  than  desolation  stares 
him  in  the  face.  The  citadel  on  his  right  hand,  which 
showed  fair  from  a  distance  is  a  ruin  and  patchwork — 
a  Roman  tower,  with  mediiBval  additions  and  Turkish 
debasements,  erected  on  a  massive  foundation  of  Jewish 
architecture.  On  his  left  he  Avill  have  an  open  space 
covered  with  ruins ;  and  as  ho  passes  through  the 
streets,  he  will  find  scarcely  a  house  that  is  not  a  ruin, 
and  in  some  parts  huge  bulks  of  massive  wrecks ;  as, 
for  example,  the  Hospital  of  the  Knights  of  St.  John, 
and  the  so-called  Palace  of  Helena.  But,  indeed,  this 
may  be  said  of  almost  any  eastern  city.  It  is  the 
peculiar  province  of  the  Turks  to  lay  waste  what  other 
ages  have  built  up.  But  let  hiui  examine  more  closely: 
he  will  find  traces  of  former  greatness,  and  even 
grandeur,  here  and  there,  handsome  Saracenic  fount- 
tains,  now  dry ;  some  few  traces  of  gothic  architec- 
ture, more  of  lloman,  and  here  and  there  fragments 
of  a  Greek  cornice  or  capital,  lying  neglected  on  the 
side  of  the  street,  pr  built  into  vnodern  hovels,  without 
any  regard  to  their  proper  position ;  and  shafts  of 
columns  of  costly  marbles  jutting  out  from  the  walls 
in  various  parts,  all  attesting  its  greatness.  Or  let 
him  repair  to  any  spot  near  the  walls,  where  excava- 
tions may  perchance  be  carrying  on  for  the  erection 


JERUSALEM. 


221 


of  a  new  building ;  and  he  will  see,  many  feet  below 
the  present  surface  of  the  ground  massive  stones  tossed 
about  in  the  wildest  confusion,  and  rubble  to  the  depth 
of  forty  feet  on  the  summit  of  the  hills,  and  of  untold 
depth  in  the  valleys  beneath  ;  and  he  will  easily  believe 
that  he  is  in  the  oldest  city  in  the  world,  which  has 
undergone  more  vicissitudes  than  any  other  in  the 
annals  of  history." 


CRUSADERS  ON  THEIR  MARCH  TO  JERUSALEM 


19^ 


m 


i 


I 


fi' 


^   fti 


S  M  Y  E  N  xY 


(222) 


AD  the  sites  of  the  "seven 
churches"  presented,  either 
in  their  remains  or  their  his- 
tory, equal  matter  of  interest, 
I  should  h.avo  united  them 
together  in  one  chapter ;  hut, 
since  the  materials  for  the 
description  of  some  of  them 
are  meagre  and  insufficient,  I 
have  preferred  treating  sepa- 
rately of  a  few  of  the  most 
^"stinguishcd. 

The  origin   of   Smyrna  is 

replete  -vvitli  tlic  same  uncer- 

h^   tainty   of  tradition    that    in- 

•^  volves    the   early  history  of 

other    nations    in    obscurity. 


FMVRXA. 


:0 


Tantalus,  the  son  of  Jove,  >vliose  puiiisliuumt  Ima  given 
rise  to  one  of  our  most  trite  proverbial  phrases,  is  the 
mythical  founder  of  this  city.  Tiie  wealth  and  eoni- 
niercial  inlluenco  of  the  ancestors  of  Agamemnon  will 
i»c  noticed  when  wo  come  to  speak  of  Mycena?,  but 
their  connection  with  Smyrna  is  too  limited  and  doubt- 
ful to  require  our  attention  here.  " 

Up  to  the  time  of  Alexander  the  Great,  Smyrna, 
which  had  been  destroyed  by  the  Lydians,  lay  waste 
and  desolate;  but  it  was  rebuilt,  and  under  the  earlier 
Koman  emperors  it  was  regarded  as  one  of  the  finest 
cities  of  Asia.  It  was  at  this  period,  when  it  was  at 
the  height  of  prosperity — when  its  inhabitants  were 
enjoying  the  vicious  pleasures  for  which  their  ill-directed 
industry  and  enterprise  had  furnished  the  means — that 
St.  John  addressed  the  Christian  Church  at  Smyrna, 
but  his  words  furnish  little  clew  to  the  character  of  the 
Smyrnaeans  as  a  people.  There  is,  however,  great 
reason  to  believe  that,  v.hatcver  may  have  been  the 
vices  of  the  Smyrnteans,  they  evinced  a  ready  and 
receptive  spirit  towards  Christianity. 

In  A.  IJ.  177,  it  was  destroyed  by  an  earthrjuake ; 
and  though  Marcus  Aurelius  rebuilt  it  on  a  grander 
scale  of  splendour  than  before,  it  v,  .s  continually  ex- 
posed to  the  ravages  of  earthquakes  and  conliagratioiis, 
and  gradually  declined  from  its  ancient  importance  and 
l)rosperity. 

In  considerin;i;  the  ma'inificcucc  of  this  citv  in  its 
ancient  condition,  we  have  one  important  dillicuhy  to 
contend  with.  Convulsions  of  nature  have  rent  asunder 
the  cite  upon  wlii(;h  it  stiuids,  and  have  led  to  consc- 
quent    removals,    calculated    lo    oi^iitcratv    iLs    cuiiiL-r 


% 


V, 


Ik 


m 


224 


GREAT   CITIES  OF   THE   WORLD. 


MARCUS  AUREUU8.     FROM  A  COIN. 


boundaries.  Again,  although  "few  of  the  Ionian 
churches  have  furnished  more  relics  of  antiquity  than 
Smyrna;  the  convenience  of  transporting  them,  with 
the  number  of  investigators,  have  exhausted  the  mine ; 
it  is  therefore  not  at  all  wonderful  that  of  the  porticoes 
and  temples  the  very  ruins  have  vanished ;  and  it  is 
now  extremely  difficult  to  determine  the  sites  of  any 
of  the  ancient  buildings,  with  the  exception  of  the 
stadium,  the  theatre,  and  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Acraeus, 
which  was  within  the  Acropolis." 

A  recent  writer  on  British  India,  who  has  visiter! 
the  interesting  locality  of  the  seven  churches,  has  de- 
scribed the  present  appearance  of  these  early  scenes  of 
the  Gospel  progress  in  a  manner  happily  blending 
classic  associations  with  the  more  solemn  recollections 
to  which  they  must  naturally  give  rise.  We  cannot  do 
better  than  proceed  in  his  own  words: — 

"  The  first  of  the  cliurcbcs  to  which  my  journeying 
led  me,  and  which  had  been  one  of  the  most  important 
of  the  seven,  was  Smyrna.  The  peculiar  felicity  of  the 
situation  of  this  ])lace  still  retains  and  seems  alwiiys  to 
have  retained,  a  certain  degree  of  .cominerco,  and  its 
natur;il  coiise'iuenccti,  popuhiiion  uiid  piospcrity.     iiut 


'^Kp 


# 


6MTUI?A. 


225 


f^psc  arc  mevolv  comparative,  and  to  exalt  Smyrna 
^lie  must  be  comprncd  vith  the  present  depopulated, 
wretched  condition  of  the  districts  that  surround  her, 
:in'l  not  to  herself  or  to  the  cities  of  her  neighbourhood 
.'it  the  period  prccc>.1iug  the  date  of  the  awful  prediction 
of  her  ruin.  At  the  more  ancient  epoch  referred  to, 
Smyrna  was  tiic  admiration  of  a  most  ingenious  people, 
who  possessed  the  fine  arts  in  a  perfection  wo  have 
still  to  see  equalled;  her  lofty  Acropolis  bore  whole 
quairios  of  marble  on  its  proud  brow;  temples  and 
stoas,  theatres  and  a  library  covered  the  bold  sides  of 
the  hill,  facing  the  clear  deep  bay,  a  fitting  mirror  for 
so  much  grace  and  beiinty;  her  crowded  but  elegant 
liouses  descend  in  gentle  parapets,  from  the  heights  of 
i^Iount  Pagus,  and  stretcliei  to  the  banks  of  the  sacred 
Moles ;  whilst  far  beyond,  an  avenue  of  temples  and 
tombs,  villas  and  bath;-,  extended  in  the  direction  of  a 
modern  village,  called  Dournibat;  in  short,  ancient  de- 
scription, the  glorious  site  of  the  place  as  wc  now  see  it, 
and  the  beauty  that  remains  of  sculpture  and  building 
occasionally  discovered,  combine  to  justify  the  high 
titles  with  which  she  was  honoured,  and  to  prove  that 
Smyrna  was  indeed  '  the  lovely,  the  crown  of  Ionia, 
the  ornament  of  Asia.'  Now,  compared  to  this,  what 
I  saw  did  not  seem  of  a  character  in  the  teeth  of  pro- 
phecy. Her  Acropolis  was  bare,  or  only  marked  by 
the  walls,  with  many  a  yawning  fissure  between  them ; 
of  the  ancient  fortifications,  of  temples,  or  other  edifices 
of  taste  or  grandeur,  were  there  none ;  tho  Turkish 
houses,  that  seemed  sliding  down  the  hill,  were  mean, 
filthy,  and  tasteless :  and  every  here  and  there  an  open 
space  with  smoked  and  bkckendd  walls  around  it;,  gave 


226 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


evidence  of  recent  conflagration ;  narrow  and  dirty 
streets  led  me  to  the  Meles,  the  sacred  and  Homer's 
own  river,  according  to  Smyrnsean  tradition ;  and  I 
found  the  stream  foul  and  wholly  insignificant ;  the 
avenue  beyond  it  could  merely  be  traced  by  the  occa- 
sional obtrusion  of  a  block  of  marble,  or  the  base  of  a 
wall,  which,  indifferent  to  their  ancient  destination,  the 
indolent  Turks  used  as  stepping-stones  to  mount  their 
horses.  The  only  buildings  were  the  Mahometan 
mosques ;  and  the  voices  of  the  Muerrins  from  their 
minarets  seemed  to  proclaim  the  triumph  of  the  cres- 
cent over  the  cross,  and  to  boast  of  the  abasement  of 
the  church  of  Christ  in  one  of  its  high  places.  The 
Christians,  divided  by  heresies  and  feuds,  were  merely 
tolerated  on  the  spot  where  the  church  had  been  all 
triumphant,  and  the  Greek,  the  Catholic,  and  the 
Armenian  offered  up  their  devotions  in  narrow  temples, 
that  were  fuin  to  hide  their  diminished  heads.  It  re- 
quired the  skill  of  an  antiquary  to  trace  the  walls  of  the 
church  on  v,he  side  of  Mount  Pagua,  where  Saint 
Polycarp  and  others  suffered  martyrdom.  Nobody 
attempted  to  show  me  the  site  of  the  original  metro- 
politan temple,  but  every  step  I  took  offered  me  evi- 
dcnco  of  that  destruction  and  humiliation  foretold  by 
the  inspired  writer.  An  infidel  barbarous  race,  the 
Turks,  whose  existence  was  not  even  known  in  the  days 
of  the  prophecy,  were  masters  or  tyrants  of  the  fair 
country ;  and  the  wealth  and  prosperity  of  Smyrna,  or 
the  small  portion  of  them  that  remained,  had  passed 
into  the  hands  of  foreign  trades — some  of  them  from 
countries  considered  in  a  state  of  unimproveable  bar- 
barity,  ot  altogether  unknown,  when  the  prediction 


f* 


SMVRN'A. 


227 


was  uttered — for  English,  Dutch,  anil  Armenians  were 
tlie  most  influential  of  the  number.  The  red  hand  of 
the  Osnianlis  had  very  lately  vaved  over  the  devoted 
city,  ami  if  slaughter  had  ceased,  a  pestilential  fever, 
cngemlercd  by  the  putrid  waters  and  filth  about  the 
town,  daily  tlnnned  its  inhabitants.  The  productions 
of  art,  of  the  pencil  or  chi.>ol,  were  looked  for  in  vain 
in  Smyrna,  that  had  been  art't?  emporium — in  Smyrna, 
whose  ancient  coins  and  medals,  and  other  exquisite 
fragments,  have  partially  furnished  half  of  the  numer- 
ous cabinets  of  Europe.  The  voice  of  music  was  mute, 
the  converse  of  philoj^ophy  was  no  more  heard,  and  of 
a  certainty,  Smyrna  was  in  the  days  of  tribulation  with 
which  she  had  been  threatened."' 


a' 

I 


',*•/. 


viV 


EPHESUS. 


;  i-^^- 


*.i,i> 


"WILL  not  entertain  rnv 
readers  with  the  romantic 
deed:5  and  legends  of  the 
^^,/,jPY--i  A'Hiizons,  ulu.)  possess  the 
-j^f-^f  invthical  claim  to  bo  the 
i:M^iiM^^%^  founders  of  the  old  capital 
""^'^^"^'^'-'^  of  Ionia.  Situated  on  the 
banks  of  the  Cayster,  not  far  from  the  coast  of  the 
Icarian  sea,  between  the  flourishing  city-states  of 
Smyrna  and  Miletus,  it  at  an  early  period  acquired  a 
position  second  to  none  of  the  Greek  cities  of  Asia 
Minor. 

The  classical  celebrity  of  this  city  is,  however,  mainl}-- 
owing  to  the  fame  of  its  temple  of  Diana,  and  for  the 
enthusiasm  and  magnificence  with  which,  up  to  a  very 
late  period,  the  worship  of  that  goddess  was  celebrated. 
Such  was  this  temple,  that,  in  the  opinion  of  the 
clicrished  poet   of  Ptolemy's  court,  ''  the  morn  shall 


f  \ 


E1'1IK;:U5. 


229 


behold  nought  more  divine  or  si'niptuous  ;  yea,  it  might 
even  surpass  the  shrino  of  Pythian  Apollo." 

One  of  those  characteristic  stories  which  served  to 
eke  out  the  confused  notions  of  mythology  with  some- 
thing like  a  sprinkling  of  probability,  and  at  the  same 
time  to  foster  human  vanity,  and  to  accommodate  the 
oversight  of  the  deities  to  a  supposed  complaisance 
towards  the  pride  of  mankind,  is  amusingly  mixed  up 
with  the  fate  of  this  structure.  On  the  night  that  the 
r>Iacedonian  conqueror  first  saw  light,  the  temple  of 
Diaiia,  wliich  had  been  one  of  the  marvels  of  ancient 
niagniHcence,  was  totally  destroyed  by  fire.  The 
incendiary  was  an  obscure  individurJ,  Eratostratus  by 
nam(3,  who  thus  son^iht  to  earn  a  notoriety  which  no 
better  deeds  would  have  realized.  To  excuse  the 
apparent  neglect  of  the  goddess,  it  was  given  out  that 
Diana,  in  her-  capacity  of  the  midwife-goddess,  was  too 
much  occupied  in  urdicring  Alexander  the  Great  into 
the  world  to  be  able  to  take  care  of  her  favourite  shrine. 
At  a  subsequent  period,  the  conqueror  offered  to  rebuild 
the  whole  structure,  on  condition  of  being  allowed  to 
inscribe  his  name  on  the  front ;  but  the  inhabitants — 
perhaps  actuated  by  the  same  feeling  which  led  the 
Tvrians  to  refuse  Alexander  an  entrance  into  their 
city  for  the  purpose  of  sacrificing  to  Hercules — declined 
the  offer.  They,  however,  succeeded  in  erecting  a. 
structure  rivallin<4  the  former  one  in  magnificence — a 
magnificence  to  which  the  whole  of  the  states  of  Asia 
Minor  contributed.  Two  hundred  and  twenty  years 
were  occupied  in  this  grand  work  of  superstitious 
enthusiasm,  and  the  original  architect  is  said  to  have 
received  divine  encouragement  from  the  goddess,  when 

20 


230 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  VVORl.D. 


he  was  woU  nigh  driven  to  suicide  by  the  difficulties  of 
the  undertaking. 

In  considering  the  greatness  of  Ephesus,  her  high 
claims  to  skill  for  the  refinements  and  taste  for  the  arts 
of  life  cannot  be  denied,  although  there  is  little  reason 
to  believe  that  she  ever  possessed  an  original  school  of 
art,  or  sought  to  elevate  the  character  of  the  inhabitants 
above  the  standard  of  an  artificial  and  pleasure-seeking 
disposition.  They  doubtless  possessed  many  features 
in  common  with  the  Alexandrians,  amongst  M'hich  a 
taste  for  mystical  religion,  and  for  the  idle  impositions 
of  magic,  are  amongst  their  least  creditable  points  of 
resemblance.  The  burning  of  the  books*  of  magic, 
recorded  by  the  pen  of  St.  Luke,  was,  however,  a 
po\,'erful  evidence  of  their  capability  for  receiving  the 
truths  of  Christianity,  and  abandoning  the  parapher- 
nalia of  idolatry. 

If,  however,  wo  consider  the  number  of  adventurers 
who,  in  all  ages,  and  at  no  period  more  than  on  that 
occasion  when  the  Truth  himself  had  shone  forth  to 
dissipate  the  clouds  of  error  which  hung  over  the  heads 
of  offending,  suffering  humanity — if  we  reflect  upon 
the  pretended  skill  in  such  arts  attributed  to  Solomon, 
and  claimed  as  derived  from  him  by  a  sot  of  speculative 
Jews,  who  had  leavened  the  Law  with  the  corrupt 
practices  of  Paganism — It  will  appear  higlily  probable 
that  an  under-current  of  political  manoeuvring  may 
have  been  mixed  up  with  the  principles  that  raised  the 
cry,  "  Great  is  Diana  of  the  Ephesians,"  and  raised 
so  formidable  an  opposition  to  the  hitherto  successful 
preaching  of  Paul.  .;■.      : 


*  Acts  six.  19. 


,  :,  r 


EniESUS. 


231 


The  "Eplicsian  lott(?r.s"  appear  to  mc  to  have  been 
certain  ina?oni(!  signs  connected  Avith  this  underhand 
system  of  politics,  as  \\v\l  as  charms  or  amulets  des*igncd 
to  impose  upon  the  idle  superstition  of  the  vulgar. 
Amusing  stories  have  been  told  respecting  their  efficacy, 
as,  for  instance,  that  when  a  Milesian  and  an  Ephesian 
were  wrestling  in  the  Olympic  games,  the  former  could 
gain  no  advantage,  till  he  deprived  his  adversary  of 
some  of  these  charms,  which  he  wore  bound  round  his 
head. 

Despite,  however,  its  lamentable  superstitions  and 
childish  enthusiasm  in  favour  of  a  mistaken  worship,  we 
cannot  rob  Ephesus  of  the  glory  of  having  given  birth  to 
two  artists,  whose  names  must  live  as  long  as  the  history 
of  art  excites  any  interest — Apelles  and  Parrhasius.  I 
will  not  repeat  the  trite  stories  respecting  the  tact  with 
wliich  these  painters  rivalled  each  other's  powers  of 
imitation,  nor  will  1  seek  to  throw  discredit  upon  what 
appear  to  have  been  merely  ingenious  feats  of  sleight  of 
hand  ;  I  will  merely  observe  that  we  know  too  littlo 
about  ancient  Greek  painting  of  that  period,  to  have 
any  right  to  express  an  opinion  on  the  subject. 

But  whatever  may  have  been  the  ability  and  wealth 
of  the  Ephesians  of  old,  their  present  condition  presents 
nt)thing  but  a  contrast  as  painful  as  that  which  grieves 
the  student  of  Pagan  splendour  in  every  quarter  of  the 
known  worhl,  ''  The  inhabitants,"  says  Chandler, 
"are  a  few  Greek  peasants,  living  in  extreme  wretched- 
ness, dependence,  and  insensibility — the  representative 
of  an  illustrious  people,  and  inhabiting  the  wreck  of 
their  greatness  ;  some  the  substructure  of  the  glarious 
edifices  which  thev  raised:  some  beneath  the  vaults  of 


282 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


the  stadium,  once  tlio  crowded  scene  of  their  divcrslong  ; 
and  some  in  the  abrupt  precipice,  in  the  sepulchres  which 
received  their  nshes.  Its  streeta  are  obscured  and 
overgro'vn.  A  herd  of  goats  was  driven  to  it  for 
shelter  from  the  sun  at  noon ;  and  a  noisy  flight  of 
crows  from  the  quarries  seemed  to  insult  its  silence. 
We  heard  the  partridge  call  in  the  area  of  the  thcatro 
and  the  stadium.  The  pomp  of  its  heathen  worship  is 
no  longer  remembered;  and  Christianity  which  was 
there  nursed  by  the  apostles,  and  fostered  by  genernl 
Councils,  until  it  increased  to  fulness  of  stature,  lingers 
on  in  an  existence  hardly  visible." 

But  if  the  condition  of  the  inhabitants  is  desolate, 
how  much  more  desolate  is  the  picture  presented  by 
the  ruins  of  its  buildings  !  ArnndoU,  whose  Christiati- 
liko  and  tasteful  observations  on  the  seven  churchf  3 
have  deservedly  attracted  the  notice  of  the  best  judges 
of  this  department  of  topographical  history,  sums  tip 
the  present  state  of  the  great  city  of  Diana  in  tho 
following  mehu\choly  and  reflcctivo  terms  : — 

"  What  would  have  been  the  astonishment  ami  firiof 
of  tho  beloved  Apostle  and  Timothy,  if  they  could  li:i\o 
foreseen  that  a  time  would  come  when  there  would  I  0 
in  Ephesus  neither  angel,  nor  churcli,  nor  city — wn*- » 
the  great  city  would  become  'heaps,  a  desolation,  and 
a  dry  land,  arul  a  wilderness;  a  land  wherein  no  man 
(Iwelleth,  neither  doth  any  son  of  man  pass  thereby.' 
Once  it  had  an  idolatrous  temple,  celebrated  for  its 
magnificence,  as  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world  ;  an  1 
the  mountains  of  Coressus  and  Prion  re-echoed  tho 
ehouta  of  ten  thousand,  '  Great  is  Diana  of  the 
Ephcsians !'     Once  it  had  Christian  temples,  almost 


EPIIEJiUS, 


288 


rivalling  the  Pngan  ii»  splendour,  wherein  the  imngo 
tliiit  fell  from  Jupiter  lay  prostrate  before  the  cross, 
nn<l  as  many  ton;^iKv><,  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  nmdo 
puldic  ttvowal  that  '  Great  is  the  Lord  Jesus  !'  Once 
it  had  a  hisliop,  the  an^^el  of  the  Church.  Timothy,  tho 
disciple  of  St.  John  ;  and  tradition  reports,  that  it  was 
honoured  with  the  last  <lays  of  both  these  great  men, 
uMtl  the  mother  of  our  Lord." 

'•Some  centuries  pHs-^e<l  on,  and  the  altars  of  Jesus 
\\i:rQ  again  thrown  down  to  make  way  for  the  delusions 
<.f  Mahomet ;  the  croaA  is  removed  from  the  dome  of 
the  ciinreh,  and  the  crescent  glitters  in  its  stead,  while 
\\ithln,  the  keble  is  substituted  for  the  altar." 

"  A  few  yi-ars  more,  and  all  may  be  silence  in  tiio 
mos(jue  and  the  churcli.  A  few  unintelligiMo  heaps  of 
stones,  with  some  mud  cottages  untenanted,  are  all 
the  reniivins  of  the  great  city  of  the  Kphesians.  The 
l.»usy  hum  of  ;i  mighty  j)0pujation  is  silent  in  death. 
'  Thy  riches  and  thy  faiis,  thy  merchundize,  thy  mariners, 
and  thy  pilots,  thy  caulkers,  and  the  occupiers  of  thy 
merchandize,  and  all  thy  m<;n  of  war  are  fallen.'  Even 
the  sea  h;is  retired  from  the  scowo  of  desolation,  and  a 
pestilentiid  morass,  with  muil  and  rushes,  has  succeeded 
lo  the  waters  which  brought 'up  the  ships  hulen  wiili 
UKrchandizo  from  every  coiintrv."  ' 

No  less  feeling  is  the  following  passage  of  Gibbon  : — 
"  In  the  general  calamities  of  mankind,  the  t^ith  of 
an  individual,  however  exalted,  the  ruin  of  an  edifice, 
however  famous,  are  passed  over  with  careless  imitten- 
tion.  Yet  we  cannot  forget  that  the  temple  of  Diana 
at  Ephcsus,  after  having  risen  with  increasing  splendour 
from  seven  repeated  misfortunes,  was  finally  burnt  by 

20* 


234 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE  WORLD. 


the  Goths  in  the  third  naval  invasion.  In  the  third 
century,  the  arts  of  Greece,  and  the  wealth  of  Asia, 
had  conspired  to  erect  that  sacred  and  magnificent 
structure.  It  was  supported  by  a  hundred  and  twenty- 
seven  marble  columns  of  the  Ionic  order.  .  They  were 
the  gift  of  devout  monarchs,  and  each  was  sixty  feet 
high.  The  altar  was  adorned  with  the  masterly  sculp- 
tures of  Praxiteles,  who  had,  perhaps,  selected  from 
the  favourite  legends  of  the  place,  the  birth  of  the  divine 
children  of  Latona,  the  concealment  of  Apollo  after  tlie 
slaughter  of  the  Cyclops,  and  the  clemency  of  Bacchus 
to  the  vanquished  Amazons ;  yet  the  length  of  the 
temple  of  Ephesus  was  only  four  hundred  and  twenty- 
live  feet,  about  two-thirds  of  the  measure  of  St.  Peter's 
at  Rome.  In  the  dimensions,  it  was  still  more  inferior 
to  that  sublime  production  of  modern  architecture. 
Tlie  spreading  arms  of  a  Christian  cross  require  a  niucli 
greater  breadth  than  the  oblong  temples  of  the  Pjigans ; 
and  the  boldest  artists  of  antiquity  would  liavc  been 
startled  at  the  proposal  of  raising  in  the  air  a  dome  of 
the  size  and  proportions  of  the  Pantheon.  The  temple 
of  Diana  was,  however,  admired  as  one  of  the  woiidors 
of  the  world.  Successive  empires,  the  Persian,  the 
Macedonian,  and  the  llq|pQan,  had  revered  its  sanctity 
and  enriched  its  splendour.  But  the  rude  savages'  of 
the  Baltic  were  destitute  of  a  taste  for  the  elogisnt 
arts,  and  they  despised  the  ideal  terrors  of  a  foreign 
superstition." 

Thus,  then,  is  this  scene  of  .Christian  developcment 
laid  bare  and  desolate  ;  thus  is  her  glory  departed, 
and,  to  conclude  in  the  words  of  an  excellent  writer  of 
modern  times,  *'howev.er  much  the  church  at  Ephesus 


EPHESUS. 


235 


may,  in  its  earliest  days,  have  merited  praise  for  its 
*  works,  labour,  and  patience,'  yet  it  appears  soon  to 
have  '  left  its  first  love,'  and  to  have  received  in  vain 
the  admonition — 'remember,  therefore,  fom  whence 
thou  art  fallen,  and  repent  and  do  the  first  works  ;  or 
else  I  will  come  unto  thee  quickly,  and  will  remove  thy 
candlestick  out  of  his  place,  except  thou  repent.'  If 
any  repentance  was  produced  by  this  solemn  warning, 
its  effects  were  not  durable,  and  the  place  has  long 
since  offered  an  evidence  of  the  truth  of  prophecy,  and 
the  certainty  of  the  Divine  threatenings,  as  well  as  a 
melancholy  subject  for  thought  to  the  contemplative 
Christian.  Its  fate  is  that  of  the  once  flourishing  seven 
churches  of  Asia  :  its  f^te  is  that  of  the  entire  country 
— a  garden  has  become  a  desert.  Busy  centres  of 
civilization,  spots  where  the  refinements  and  delights 
of  the  age  were  collected,  are  now  a  prey  to  silence, 
destruction,  and  death.  Consecrated  first  of  all  to  the 
purposes  of  idolatry,  Ephesus  next  had  Christian 
temples  almost  rivaling  the  pagan  in  splendour,  wherein 
the  image  of  the  great  Diana  lay  prostrate  before  the 
cross ;  and,  after  the  lapse  of  some  centuries,  Jesus 
gives  place  to  Mahomed,  and  the  crescent  glittered  on 
the  dome  of  the  recently  Clg||jtian  church.  A  few 
more  scores  of  years,  and  Ephesuf'ljias  neither  temple, 
cross,  crescent,  nor  city,  but  is  a  ' desolation,  a  djy 
land,  and  a  wilderness.'    Even  the  sea  has  retire 


etire^roni 
ial    iWrass, 


the  scene  of  devastation,  and  a  pestilent! 
covered  with  mud  and  %ushes,  has  succeeded  to  the 
waters  which  brought  up  ships  laden  with  merchandize 
from  every  part  of  the  known  world.'* 


>    ,» 


BDBMNa  OF  SABDIS  BT  THB  GREEKS. 

SARDIS. 


ff]]REAT  as  were  the  sins  which 
debased  tlio  lively  iind  earnest 
dispositions  of  the  Ephesians, 
severe  as  was  the  punishment 
which  has  been  <.;raduallj 
worked  out  in  tlio  extirpation 
and  castiiii>;  (hnvn  of  the 
monuments  of  exploded  idohi- 
try,  and  in  tlie  substitution 
of  a  mixed  populatifl|^  in  a  state  of  povei'ty  and 
ignorance,  for  tlja|j((|^int  and  tasteful  lonians  of  old 
— the  same  im^^Wtant  lessons  are  drawn  in  stronger 
colours  in  the  ruins  which  adorn  the  miserable  village 
of  ^Pt,  which  cover  the  site  of  the  capii.il  of  Croesus, 
of  that  king  whose  vanity  sufffred  so  heavy  a  correction 
in  the  fearful  vicissitudes  which  formed  the  melancholy 
conclusion  of  the  prosperity  in  which  he  had  so 
haughtily  trustea. 

(236)  ' 


■m 


m 


m 


o 


I' 


«* 


6AR0IS. 


289 


Had  Solon,  or  whoever  it  was  that  bade  the  proud 
king  of  Lydia  await  the  end  of  life  before  he  judged  of 
its  good  fortune,  lived  to  behold  the  scattered  remnants 
of  the  almost  impregnable  treasure-city,  which  remain 
to  this  day,  he  would  have  marvelled  at  the  wondrous 
illustration  of  the  uncertain  prosperity  of  states  as  of 
princes.  Despite  the  romance  with  which  the  artless 
narrative  of  Herodotus  is  invested,  and  although  even 
chronology  tends  to  cast  a  doubt  upon  the  whole  story, 
so  thoroughly  is  the  conversation  of  the  Lydian  monarch 
with  the  Athenian  sage  realized  in  what  we  now  behold 
of  Sardis,  that  we  must  fain  wish  to  believe  it,  even 
where  we  are  bound  to  doubt. 

Long  and  spirited  was  the  resistance  which  the  then 
hardy  Lydians  opposed  to  the  intrepid  and  determined 
onslaught  of  Cyrus.  Enormous  wealth,  which  had 
from  the  days  of  Gyges  been  proverbial,  had  made  it  a 
fitting  object  of  cupidity  to  the  successful  revolutionist 
who  had  ousted  his  grandfather,  Astyages,  from  the 
Median  throne.  Its  situation  at  the  foot  of  Mount 
Tmolus,  in  a  beautiful  plain  watered  by  the  golden 
stream  of  Pactolus,  gave  it  all  the  charms  of  local 
interest,  and  it  would  have  made  a  fitting  royal  residence 
even  for  the  monarch  of  the  wide  Persian  estate. 

Sardis  is  pre-eminently  interesting  as  the  cause  of 
the  first  Persian  war  against  the  Greeks.  Heeren  has 
well  described  this  as  the  "grand  object  of  cgpamon 
interest  that  v/as  wanting"  to  prevent  the  consequences 
of  the  mutual  jealousies  of  Athens,  Sparta,  and  the 
other  larger  Grecian  states.  "  Although,"  he  continues, 
"  this  did  not  produce  that  union  of  the  whole  Greek 
nation,  which   a  great   man   had   ooaoeived,  without 


\ 


240 


Gr.r.AT  CTTTF.^;  or  thk  ^roRLD. 


believing  iu  its  possibility,  yet  the  whole  condition  of 
Greece  in  succeeding  ages,  her  foreign  and  domestic 
roliitions,  were  all  a  consequence  of  it ;  and  wo  do  not 
say  too  much  when  wc  assert,  that  by  it  the  political 
character  of  Greece  was  formed." 

The  surprise  of  Sardia  by  the  lonians,  under  Aris- 
togonis,  and  its  subsequent  destruction  by  an  accidental 
fire,  proved  the  grand  provocative  to  the  Persian  power, 
and  the  destruction  of  the  temple  of  Cyb<?ld  was  after- 
wards made  a  pretext  for  violating  and  firing  the  shrines 
•of  the  gods  of  Greece,  when  the  Persians  were  as  yet 
unrepressed  in  their  victorious  progress.  But  although 
the  Athenians  afterwards  al)andoned  the  lonians.  and 
refused  to  send  them  succour,  Darius  took  little  notice 
of  the  lonians,  when  he  heard  of  the  destruction  of 
Siirdis,  but  haA  ing  taken  a  bow  and  arrows,  he  let  fly  a 
shaft  towards  heaven,  exclaiming,  "0  Jove,  grant  that 
I  may  revenge  myself  on  the  Athenians  !"  And  lest 
ho  should  forget  the  reprisals  he  hoped  to  make,  a 
favourite  attendant  was  desired,  every  time  dinner  was 
set  before  him,  to  say  three  times,  "  Sire,  remember 
the  Athenians," 

We  find  little  of  interest  in  ihe  subsequent  history 
of  Savdis.  Like  a  number  of  its  neiij-hbours,  it  viehb  d 
to  the  Macedonian  conqueror,  who  treated  its  inhabi- 
tants with  much  favour,  admitting  Miiinenes,  the 
governor  of  the  citadel,  into  the  number  of  his  private 
associates,  and  employing  him  on  confidential  errands. 
Having  ordered  a  temple  to  be  erected  to  Jove,  on  the 
site  of  the  ancient  {-aiaco  of  the  Lydian  kings,  he  left 
Pausanias  as  governor,  permitting  the  inhabitants  to 
live  freely  after  their  accu^^tomod  laws  and  mannors. 


BARSU. 


iii 


SardiSy  however,  rapidlj  declined,  when,  after  th^ 
victory  of  the  Romans  over  Antiochus,  it  became  sub- 
ject to  that  power  which  absorbed  the  whole  greatness 
of  Asia  Minor.  To  become  the  province  of  a  larger 
state,  to  change  from  the  dimensions  of  a  widely-spread 
kingdom  to  those  of  a  mere  village,  itself  the  tributary 
of  an  arbitrary  and  marauding  power,  with  a  nominal 
and  purposeless  subjection  to  some  larger  and  better 
organized  state,  which  has  too  little  interest  in  its 
provinces,  or  has  too  much  to  take  care  of  already- 
such  has  been  the  fate  we  have  briefly  recorded  in  tho 
case  of  half  the  most  glorious  cities  of  antiquity. 
Sardis  is  no  exception.  The  haughty  palatial  city  of 
tho  Lydian  empire  had  long  since  parted  with  her  na- 
tionalty ;  the  gradual  introduction  of  Persian  manners 
and  customs  had  depraved  her  once-hardy  soldiers; 
and  this  ancient  kingdom  passed  through  all  the  stages 
of  degradation  which,  when  we  view  their  ruins,  wo 
perceive  was  consummated  throughout  the  cities  of 
Asia  Minorx 

The  calamities  of  nature  were  added  to  the  destruc- 
tive influence  of  demoralizing  man.  An  earthquake 
had  reduced  it  to  a  heap  of  ruins,  when  the  emperor 
Tiberius  ordered  it  to  be  rebuilt.  From  ^^afious  local 
traditions,  however,  and  from  the  careful  surveys  that 
recent  travellers  have  made,  it  seems  probable  that 
many  intoresting  relics  of  the  ancient  city  wore,  pre- 
served, and  that  the  work  of  repair  was  performed  with 
some  regard  to  the  preservation  of  Lydian  associations 
of  an  earlier  date. 

As  the  seat  of  a  Christian  church,  the  Scriptural 
notices  of  Sardis  are  limited  to  the  rebukes  addressed 

.    21 


Si^ifjrafte 


f-if¥i«teaai>lfaia5 


242 


GREAT   CITIES    OF   THE    WORLD. 


to  its  inhabitants  by  St.  John,  which  are  sufficient  to 
show  that  it  had  declined  much  in  fuith,  and  that, 
although  it  still  maintained  the  name  and  outward 
form  of  a  Christian  church,  it  was  us  one  "having  a 
name  to  live,  while  it  was  dead." 

Macfarlane  furnishes  the  following  pleasing  account 
of  his  visit  to  the  ruined  capital  of  Lydia  : — 

"  The  country  I  traversed,  the  luxuriant  vales  of 
the  Caicus  und  the  Herraus — two  noble  rivers — was 
almost  as  deserted  and  melancholy  as  the  regions 
between  Smyrna  and  Pergamus ;  but  nothing  that  I 
had  yet  seen  equalled  the  desolation  of  the  city  of 
Sardis.  I  saw  from  afar  the  lofty  Acropolis,  fringed 
Avith  crumbling  ruins ;  and  when  I  crossed  a  branch 
of  the  Golden  Pactolus,  which  once  flowed  through  the 
agora,  market-place;  and  when  I  stood  there  at  eleviMi 
o'clock — the  very  hour  in  which,  in  its  ancient  ihivis, 
the  place  would  be  crowded — I  saw  not  a  soul,  nor  an 
object  of  any  sort  to  remind  me  that  this  solitude  \\:u\ 
been  a  vast  and  splendid  city,  save  here  and  there  a 
patch  of  ruin,  a  dismantled  wall,  or  a  heap  of  .stone 
and  brick  work  mixed  with  brambles  and  creeping 
weeds.  Where  palaces  and  temples,  theatres  and 
crowded  habitations  had  stood,  a  green  and  llowerv 
carpet  of  smooth  sward  met  the  eye;  and  tlie  t;il!, 
stately  asphodel,  or  day-lily,  gleamed  in  its  beauty 
and  pallidness  where  the  marble  caliunn  ha^j,!  risen  in 
other  days.  The  brook  —  for  the  Pactolus  is  nov.- 
nothing  more  than  a  brook,  and  a  chokcil  and  insi^^- 
niticant  one — gently  '  babbled  by  ;'  a  cool  breeze  1>U'W 
from  the  snow-covered  Mount  Tniolus,  which,  if  I 
may  be  permitted  to  use  the  poetical  language  of  the 


t^. 


SAUDIS. 


248 


Sicilians,  as  applied  to  Etna,  stood  like  '  TArcipreto 
de'  raonti,  che  in  cotta  bianca,  al  ciel  porge  gl'incensi,' 
facing  ine  far  across  the  plain.  This  breeze  murmured 
along  the  steep  rough  sides  of  the  Acropolis,  and  sighed 
among  the  underwood  that  grew  thickly  at  it8  foot. 
Other  sounds  there  were  none,  save  now  and  then  the 
neighing  of  my  horse,  who  crushed  the  flowers  and 
scented  turf  beneath  his  hoof,  and  gave  utterance  to 
the  contentment  and  joy  suggested  by  such  fair  pas- 
ture. This  utter  solitude,  and  in  such  a  place,  in 
the  agora  of  the  populous  Sardis,  became  oppressive. 
I  would  have  summoned  the  countless  thousands  of 
ancient  Lydians,  that  for  long  centuries  had  slept  the 
sleep  of  death  beneath  that  gay  green  sward :  spirits 
might  have  walked  there  in  broad  noon-day — so  silent, 
void,  awful  was  the  spot !  Here  the  hand  of  destruc- 
tion had  spared  nothing  but  a  few  rent  walls,  which 
lemained  to  tell  all  that  had  been  done ;  were  they 
not  there,  the  eye  might  pass  over  the  plain  and  the 
hill  as  a  scene  of  a  common  desert,  and  never  dream 
that  here  was  the  site  of  Sardis  !  The  Pagan  temple 
and  the  Christian  church  had  alike  been  desolated ; 
the  architectural  beauty  of  the  one,  and  the  pure 
destination  of  the  other,  having  been  all  ineflScacious; 
for  their  preservation.  Four  rugged,  dark,  low  walls, 
by  the  side  of  a  little  mill,  represented  the  church ; 
and  two  columns  erect,  and  a  few  mutilated  fragments 
of  other  columns,  scattered  on  the  sward  or  sunk  in  it, 
were  all  that  remained  of  that  '  beautiful  and  glorious 
edifice,'  the  temple  of  Cybele  at  Sardis !  At  the  mill 
by  the  church,  I  met  two  Greeks,  and  these,  I  believe, 
formed  the  resident  Christian  population  of  this  once- 


ff-- 


244 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


distinguished  city  of  the  Lord.  From  the  mill  I  could 
see  a  group  of  mud-huts  on  the  acclivity  under  the 
southern  cliffs  of  the  Acropolis — there  might  have 
been  half  a  dozen  of  these  permanent  habitations, 
and  they  were  fla'ked  by  about  as  many  black  tents. 
A  pastoral  and  wandering  tribe  of  the  Turcomans 
dwelt  here  at  the  moment ;  and  the  place  almost 
retained  the  ancient  name  of  tlio  city — tliey  called  it 
Sart.  Well  might  tlie  Christian  traveller  exclaim 
here — 'And  what  is  Sardis  now?  Fler  foundations 
are  fallen ;  her  walls  are  thrown  down.'  '  She  sits 
silent  in  darkness,  and  is  no  longer  called  the  lady  of 
kingdoms.'  '  IIow  doth  the  city  sit  solitary  that  M'as 
full  of  people  I'  " 

I  may  coiicludo  my  notice  of  Sardis  with  the 
following  rcllcctions  of  an  equally  tlioughtful  eye- 
v.'itness : — 

"Beside  me  were  the  clifi's  of  Acropolis,  which, 
centuries  before,  the  hardy  Median  scaled,  while  leading 
on  the  con([ueriug  Persians,  whoso  tents  had  covered 
the  very  spot  on  which  I  was  rccliniij<:.  Before  nie 
were  the  vestiges  of  Avhat  had  been  the  palace  of  the 
gorgeous  Croesus;  within  its  walls  were  once  congre- 
gated the  wisest  of  mankind — Thales,  Cleobulus,  and 
Solon.  It  was  here  tliat  the  wretched  father  mourned 
alone  the  mangled  corpse  of  his  beloved  Atys  ;  it  was 
here  that  the  same  humiliated  monarch  wept  at  tlio 
feet  of  the  Persian  boy,  who  wrung  from  him  his 
kingdom.  Far  in  the  distance  wore  the  gigantic 
tumuli  of  the  Lydian  monarchs,  Candaules,  Ilalyattes, 
and  Gyges ;  and  around  them  were  spread  those  \cvy 


m 


6ARDIS, 


245 


plains  once  trodJen  by  the  countless  hosts  of  Xerxes, 
when  hurryiii;>j  i>n  to  fiml  a  sepulchre  at  Marathon. 

"There  were  more  varied  and  more  vivid  remem- 
brances ftHtioeiiited  with  the  night  of  Sardis,  than  couUl 
possibly  be  attached  lo  any  other  spot  of  earth ;  but 
nil  were  min^dod  with  a  feeling  of  disgust  at  the 
littleness  of  human  glory;  all — all  hnd  passed  away  I 
There  wore  before  me  the  fanes  ^A'  a  dead  religion,  the 
tombs  of  forgotten  monarchs,  and  the  palm-tree  that 
waved  in  the  banijuel  hall  of  kings ;  while  the  feeling 
of  desolation  was  doubly  heightened  by  the  calm,  sweet 
eky  above  me,  which,  in  its  unfading  brightness,  shono 
as  purely  now  as  when  it  beamed  upon  the  golden 
dreams  of  Croesus. 


iV' 


-•'■:.   ^    .:■ 


^i'.-i^"'' 


HOSEBN  OREZK  COSTCIU. 

21* 


THYATIRA. 


HYATIRA  con  hardly  bo 
considered  one  of  the  great 
cities  of  the  world  with 
respect  to  its  magnitude 
or  importance  ;  but  it 
possesses  a  certain  degree 
of  interest  from  having 
been  the  seat  of  one  of 
the  Seven  Apocalyptic  Churches. 

This  ancient  city  still  survives  as  an  inhabited  site, 
under  the  Turkish  name  of  Ak-hissar,  or  the  "  white 
castle."  It  cannot  however  compare  with  the  two  other 
inhabited  sites,  being  greatly  inferior  to  Perganios,  and 
immeasurably  so  to  Smyrna.  In  ancient  remains  it  is 
poorer  than  any  of  the  seven.  It  is  situated  about 
twenty-seven  miles  to  the  north  of  Sardis,  and  is  thus 
noticed  by  Pliny  Fisk,  the  American  missionary: — 
"  Thvatira  is  situated  near  a  small  river,  a  branch  of 
the  C.'iicus,  in  the  centre  of  an  extensive  plain.  At 
the  distance  of  three  or  four  miles  it  is  almost  completely 
Hurrouiided  by  mountains.  The  houses  are  low  ;  many 
of  thcni  of  mud  or  enrth.  Excepting  the  niotsellim's 
icilace,  there  is  scarcely  a  decent  house  in  the  place. 
The  streets  are  narrow  and  dirty,  and  every. thing 
indicates  poverty  and  degradation.  We  had  a  letter 
of  introduction  to  iLconcmo,  the  bishop's  procurator, 


m 


%'"'W 


f'- 


THTATIRA. 


249 


and  a  principal  n^an  among  the  Greeks  of  this  town  . . . 
He  says  the  Turks  have  destroyed  all  remnants  of  the 
ancient  church  ;  and  even  the  place  where  it  stood  is 
now  unknown.    At  present  there  are  in  the  town  1000 
houses  for  which  taxes  are  paid  to  the  government." 
(Memoir  of  the  Rev.  P.  Fisk.     Boston,  Mass.,  1828.) 
It  appears  from  Hartley,  that  the  Greeks  occupy  300 
houses,  and  the  Armenians  30.    Each  of  them  have  a 
church.      The   town  is  embosomed  in  poplars  and 
cypresses.    The  traveller  last  named,  observes,  "  The 
sacred  writer  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  informs  us 
that  Lydia  was  a  seller  of  purple  in  the  city  of  Thyatira ; 
and  the  discovery  of  an  inscription  here,  which  makes 
mention  of  *  the  dyers,'  has  been  considered  important 
in  connection  with  this  passage.     I  know  not  if  other 
travellers  have  remarked  that,  even  at  the  present  time, 
Thyatira  is  famous  for  dyeing.     In  answer  to  inquiries 
on  the  subject,  I  was  informed  that  the  cloths  which 
are  dyed  scarlet  here  are  considered  superior  to  any 
others  furnished  by  Asia  Minor. 


!•»'» 


ing 


ANCIENT   CITIES  OF  AMERICA. 


OWHERE  does  the  repetition 
of  legend,  and  the  existence 
of  one  fountain  of  superstition 
strike  us  so  strangely,  as  when, 
having  divested  ourselves  of  all 
expectation  of  discovering  any 
similarity  between  the  roli- 
jiious  feelings  of  the  ancient 
inhabitants  of  tlie  Old  and  the  New  World,  we  suddenly 
find  ourselves  overwhelmed  by  the  resemblance  of  tlie 
traditions  of  the  ancient  tribes  of  the  New  Continent, 
concerning  the  Creation,  to  the  Mosaic  accounts  of  the 
Kosmical  Genesis. 

The  etymologist  has  a  new  and  unplonghe<l  field  of 
primeval  language  opened  up  to  him,  and  is  staggered 
at  the  wonderful  coincidenccvS  of  language  wliidi  crowd 
into  his  view.     The  symbolist  here,  too,  has  an  adui 
tion  m.'ide  to  hh  nivsterious,  and  thorefoie  doullv  inter* 


rs 


ANCIEKT  CITIES   OF  AMERICA. 


251 


csting  store,  in  the  picture-writing  of  the  Mexicans, 
nnd  in  the  strange  mounds  of  the  Mississippi  shaped 
into  the  outline  of  iuhahitants  of  the  woods. 

The  architect,  likewise,  cannot  fail  to  look  with  deep 
attention  and  interest  on  the  palaces  of  Yucatan,  and 
see  how,  in  the  earliest  ages,  the  my^u^iously  work- 
ing mind  of  man  had  conceived  such  forms  of  sym- 
metry, and  reared  these  stately  piles  without  the 
assistance  of  iron  tools,  or  of  domestic  draught-animals. 

These  works,  indeed,  remind  us  of  the  age  when  an 
irrevocable  decree  went  forth,  and  when  thousands  of 
men.  groaning  under  the  lash  till  they  felt  its  continu- 
ally repeated  strokes  no  longer,  used  their  brute  force 
to  drag  the  unwielJy  masses  from  the  quarry  to  the 
building,  to  carry  out,  as  if  by  magic,  the  concep- 
tion of  the  one  man  in  whose  brain  the  plan  had  first 
drawn  broath,  where  it  had  grown  up,  and  whence, 
when  matured,  it  sprang,  Ath6nS-like,  full  armed  and 
adorned,  from  the  head  where  it  had  been  first  ima- 
gined. 

Of  no  inferior  interest  to  the  palaces  of  Yucatan,  are 
the  brick-built  pyramids  of  the  ^ame  region,  where  the 
barbarous  rites  of  the  Aztecs,  in  strange  contrast  to  tlio 
more  agricultural  rites  of  their  prcdtct'ssors,  the  Tol- 
tecs,  were  celebrated  even  to  the  day  when  barbarous 
Spaniards  entered  the  land,  and  ciuised  the  farther 
brutalization  of  the  forcibly  displaced  race ;  who  saw, 
in  sorrow  and  in  misery,  that  tlsot  e  was  no  help  to  be 
expected,  that  no  kind  hand  wonM  stay  the  desecration 
of  their  homes  and  temples;  and,  wrought  tip  by  their 
sorrows  to  a  pitch  of  frantic  revenge,  sold  their  king- 
dom dearly  to  the   Spanish   Christians,  to  whom   by 


253 


Wi 


f."  ■' 


eREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 

J0 


I'.tiB     . 


MOCTBCCWafA  It 


Papal  decrees,  the  new  found  land  belonged  Indeed, 
under  the  strait  in  which  they  found  theriiselves,  I 
■wonder  only  at  their  patience  and  moderation.  The 
end  of  the  Mexican  Empire  resembles  that  of  a  stricken 
boar  in  the  thickets  of  Germany,  whoso  dying  spring 
is  fearful  and  often  fatal.  Indeed,  the  picture-histc- 
rians  of  the  period  seem  but  too  anxious  to  forget 
the  whole  misery  of  the  reign  of  MocteQcuma  II.,  and 
mark  it  merely  as  an  unlucky  year.  Their  grief  was 
too  great  to  be  shoMn  even  in  the  records  of  the  times 
to  be  handed  down  to  their  children,  lion  fearfully 
did  the  armies  of  Cortez  humanizii  the  Mexicans,  at  the 
price  of  honour,  religion,  home,  and  independence. 

The  plan  proposed  in  the  following  sketch  is  to  give 
an  account  of  some  of  these  ancient  baildings,  and  of 
their  probable  era.    And  first  of  the  pyramidal  temples 


GREAT  TEMPLE,  OR  TEOCALLI,   IN  THE  ANCIENT  CITY 

01    MEXICO. 


22 


ANCIENT   CITIES   OF  AMERICA. 


255 


of  Yucatan  and  Mexico,  which  I  shall  introduce  to 
the  reader,  by  an  extract  from  a  late  inquiring  his- 
torian : — * 

"  The  Mexican  temples — teo-calUSf  '  houses  of  God,* 
as  they  were  called — were  very  numerous.  There  were 
several  hundreds  in  each  of  the  principal  cities,  many 
of  them,  doubtless,  very  humble  edifices.  They  wero 
solid  masses  of  earth,  cased  with  brick  or  stone,  and 
in  their  form  somewhat  resembled  the  pyramidal  struc- 
tures of  ancient  Egypt.  The  bases  of  many  of  them 
were  more  than  a  hundred  feet  square,  and  they 
towered  to  a  still  greater  height.  They  were  distri- 
buted into  four  or  five  stories,  each  of  smaller  dimen- 
sions than  that  below.  The  ascent  was  by  a  flight  of 
steps  at  an  angle  of  the  pyramid  on  the  outside.  This 
led  to  a  sort  of  terrace*,  or  gallery,  at  the  base  of  the 
second  story,  which  passed  quite  round  the  building 
to  another  flight  of  stairs,  commencing  also  at  tho 
same  angle  as  the  preceding  and  directly  over  it,  and 
leading  to  a  similar  terrace ;  so  that  one  had  to  malvo 
tho  circuit  of  the  temple  several  times  before  reaching 
tho  summit.  In  some  instances  the  stairway  led 
directly  up  the  centre  of  the  western  face  of  the  build- 
ing. The  top  was  a  broad  area,  on  which  were  erected 
one  or  two  towers,  forty  or  fifty  feet  high,  the  sanctu- 
aries in  which  wero  placed  the  sacred  images  of  tho 
presiding  deities.  Before  these  toAvers  stood  the  dread- 
ful stone  of  sacrifice,  and  two  lofty  altars,  on  whicli 
fires  were  kept  as  inextinguishable  as  those  in  the  temple 
of  Vesta.  There  were  said  to  be  six  hundred  of  theso 
altars,  in  smaller  buildings  within  tho  enclosure  of  tho 

^^,^  *  Prescott,  Conquest  of  Mexico,  i,  p.  72|  |(i^« 


250 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THB  WORLD. 


great  temple  of  Mexico,  Vfhich,  with  those  on  the  sacreil 
edifices  in  other  parts  of  the  city,  shed  a  hrilliant  illu- 
mination over  its  streets,  through  the  darkest  nights. 

"From  the  construction  of  their  temples,  all  reli- 
gious services  were  public.  The  long  processions  of 
priests  winding  round  their  massive  sides  as  they  rose 
higher  and  higher  towards  the  summit,  and  the  dismal 
rites  of  sacrifices  performed  there,  were  all  visible  from 
the  remotest  corner  of  the  capital,  impressing  on  the 
spectator's  mind  a  superstitious  veneration  for  the 
mysteries  of  his  religion,  and  for  the  dread  ministers 
by  whom  they  were  interpreted. 

"  This  impression  was  kept  in  full  force  by  their 
numerous  festivals.  Every  month  was  consecrated  to 
some  protecting  deity  ;  and  every  week,  ~?y,  almost 
every  day,  was  set  down  in  tHeir  calendar  for  some 
appropriate  celebration ;  so  that  it  is  difficult  to  under- 
stand how  the  ordinary  business  of  life  could  have  he°>n 
compatible  with  the  exactions  of  religion.  Many  of 
their  ceremonies  wore  of  a  light  and  cheerful  complexion, 
consisting  of  the  national  songs  and  danees,  in  which 
both  sexes  joined.  Processions  were  made  of  womeii 
and  children  crowned  witli  garlands,  and  bearing 
offerings  of  fruit,  the  ripened  mjiize,  or  tlie  sweet 
incense  of  copal,  and  other  odoriferous  gums,  wliile  the 
altars  of  the  deity  were  stained  w'ith  no  blood  save  that 
of  animals.  These  were  the  peaceful  rites  derived  from 
their  Toltec  predecessors,*  on  wiiich  the  fierce  Aztecs 

•  Mr.  Prescott's  reference  to  ihe  Toltec  race  gives  ine  im  opportunity  of 
saying  that  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  Mexican  polity  and  social  sys- 
tem wore  derived  through  Polynesia,  from  the  peninsula  of  Malacca.  The 
nccounts  of  Tolteo  civilization  are  identical  with  those  of  the  customs  of 
the  present  Polynesians,  and  Pickering  has  clearly  proved  that  tho  so- 


(\ 


/vrrrvT  CITIES  or  amehica.  f57 

••riLr'-!if*i!«i  a  siiporvtitir.n  too  lonthsorao  to  bo  exhibited 
in  nil  its  nakptlnos^,  .nil  one  over  which  I  would  gladly 
<lr;tn'  a  voil  alro;.»r'tli(M-,  but  that  it  would  leave  the 
r.'ador  in  i;:;no:  ancf  of  tlioir  most  striking  institution, 
.in<l  one  that  h;i<l  tho  groaiost  influence  in  forming  tho 
iiiuionnl  ehfiracter. 

"  Iliitnan  snciifico^*  wero  adopted  by  tho  ^tecs 
oarly  in  i\\o  fourtoonth  century,  about  two  hundred 
vi-ai's  lefore  the  conquo.st.  Rare  at  first,  they  became 
more  frequent  with  the  "Aider  extent  of  their  empire; 
till,  at  liMigth,  almost  evory  festival  was  closed  with 
iliis  cruel  abnniinalioK.  Theso  religious  ceremonials 
\vere  generally  arnniged  m  such  a  manner  as  to  afford 
^  typo  of  the  most  j)rouiinent  circumstances  in  tho 
jMaracter  or  history  of  the  deity  who  was  the  object  of 
th«'jn.     A  single  exainplc  will  sufilcc. 

•'  One  of  their  in.»st  i'.iijturtant  festivals  was  that  in 
liOnour  of  the  god  Tezcaillpc  m,  whose  rank  was  inferior 
only  to  that  of  tho  Supreme  Ecing.  lie  was  called 
•  tho  soul  of  tho  world,'  and  .supposed  to  have  been  its 

c'ftlled  ahorigtnatj  of  Oro^nn,  New  Moxico,  n,ail  Anibuao  are  of  the  Haltj 
rftCw'. — Si-e  his  Rjioes  of  Man,  i  p.  112-1  it.  To  Dr.  Lxng  (View  of  tbo 
Origin  niul  Mi;^ratioii3  of  tlio  l'if!yni>siiin  Nation  :  demrnstrnting  their 
AnnientDiseovory  nii'l  Progre^aivo  SoUlemeiif,  of  the  Continent  of  Amcricat 
Luadun,  1834)  we  ove  the  llr^i  iirouiulgation  of  this  Uioory  (which  I  may 
itavo  oecasiun  hereafter  to  exuiuine),  aiui  I  am  sure,  trom  furtlicr  grounds, 
nt  which  the  Priucipnl  of  Sydney  dUou'e  wns  unan-aro,  that  the  coloni- 
f.n.tIon  of  America  tooit  place  from  the  Paclflc  Ofe.m.  I  cannot  speak  in 
too  high  terma  of  Dr.  Lang's  woi  k :  wliich,  unlliio  that  of  the  would>b« 
discoverer  of  a  Tyrian  origin  for  the  Atnericans,  is  temperate,  logical,  and 
not  po  much  drawn  from  the  "  volume  of  the  brain,"  ns  fi-om  a  carefhl  and 
sensible  collation  of  facts  and  customs;  trherens,  of  Mr.  Jones's  assertiona 
ne  cm  only  say,  that  they  are  unproven  and  brought  forward,  liko  too 
m  my  of  the  reveries  of  tho  German  scholars,  who  Rct  up  a  thcoij,  |[atlker« 
i'i£  rensoni  for  it  afterwiirdi. — Bvcki**',        '""  """" 

52* 


»-ff-  fwfjf    •»»»»N*     •in'tf-    **Mt»i^ 


.258 


ftREAT  CITILS  OF  THE  WORLD. 


creator.  He  was  depicted  as  a  handsome  man,  endowed 
with  perpetual  youth.  A  year  before  the  intended 
sacrifice,  a  captive  distinguished  for  his  personal  beauty, 
and  without  a  blemish  on  his  body,  was  selected  to 
represent  this  deity.  Certain  tutors  took  charge  of 
him,  and  instructed  him  how  to  perform  his  new  part 
with  becoming  grace  and  dignity.  He  was  arrayed  in 
a  splendid  dress,  regaled  with  incense  and  with  a 
profusion  of  sweet-seen'  A  flowers,  of  which  the  ancient 
Mexicans  were  as  fond  as  their  descendants  at  the 
present  day.  When  he  went  abroad  he  was  attended 
by  a  train  of  the  royal  pages,  and,  as  he  halted  in  the 
streets  to  play  some  favourite  melody,  the  crowd 
prostrated  themselves  before  him,  and  did  him  homage 
as  the  representative  of  their  good  deity.  In  this  way 
he  led  an  easy  luxurious  life,  till  within  a  month  of  his 
sacrifice.  ....  At  length  the  fatal  day  of  sacrifice 
arrived.  The  term  of  his  short-lived  glories  was  at  an 
end.  He  was  stripped  of  his  gaudy  apparel,  and  bade 
adieu  to  the  fair  partners  of  his  revelries.  One  of  the 
royal  barges  transported  him  across  the  lake  to  a  temple 
which  rose  on  its  margin  about  a  league  from  the  city. 
Hither  the  inhabitants  of  the  capital  flocked  to  witness 
the  consummation  of  the  ceremony.  As  the  sad  pro- 
cession wound  up  the  sides  of  the  pyramid,  the  unhappy 
victim  threw  away  his  gay  chaplets  of  flowers,  and 
broke  in  pieces  the  musical  instruments  with  which  he 
had  solaced  the  hours  of  captivity.  On  the  summit  he 
was  received  by  six  priests,  whose  long  and  matted 
locks  flowed  disorderly  over  their  sable  robes,  covered 
with  hieroglyphic  scrolls  of  mystic  import.  They  led 
lum  to  the  sacrificial  stone,  a  hug   block  of  jasper,  with 


ANCIHNT  CITIKS  OF  AMERHa. 


261 


its  upper  surface  somewhat  convex.  On  this  the  prisoner 
wiis  stretched.  Five  priests  secured  his  head  and  his 
limbs;  while  the  sixth,  chid  in  a  scarlet  mantle,  emble- 
matic of  his  bloody  office,  dexterously  opened  the  breast 
of  the  wretched  victim  with  a  sharp  razor  of  itztl^ — a 
volcanic  substance,  hard  as  flint, — and,  inserting  his 
hand  in  the  wound,  tore  out  the  palpitating  heart. 
The  minister  of  death,  first  holding  this  up  towards  the 
Buii,  an  object  of  worship  throughout  Anahuac,  cast  it 
at  the  feet  of  the  deity  to  whom  the  temple  was  devoted, 
while  the  multitudes  below  prostrated  themselves  in 
humble  adoration.  The  tragic  story  of  this  prisoner 
was  expounded  by  the  priests  as  the  type  of  human 
destiny,  which,  brilliant  in  its  commencement,  too  often 

closes  in  sorrow  and  disaster The  most 

loathsome  part  of  the  story — the  manner  in  which  the 
body  of  the  sacrificed  captive  was  disposed  of — remains 
yet  to  be  told.  It  was  delivered  to  the  warrior  who 
had  taken  him  in  battle,  and  by  him,  after  being  dressed, 
was  served  up  in  an  entertainment  to  his  friends.  This 
was  not  the  coarse  repast  of  famished  cannibals,  but  a 
bani|uet  teeming  with  delicious  beverages  and  delicate 
viands  prepared  with  art  and  attended  by  both  sexes, 
who,  as  wo  shall  see  hereafter,  conducted  themselves 
with  all  the  decorum  of  civilized  life." 

The  other  mode  of  human  sacrifice  was  the  gladia- 
torial, where  the  victim  was  confined  by  a  chain  attached 
to  one  ancle,  and  thus  obliged  to  fight  with  a  gladiator 
who  was  at  liberty.  /•  ^ 

To  such  appalling  uses  were  these  pyramids,  now 
gray  with  time,  applied.  I  will  now  proceed  to  describe 
one  of  them,  that  of  Cholula.       '         ' .     -•     •• 


^(:M 


l,'>;i.i 


262 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


: 


It  has  been  generally  believed  that  the  Toltecs,  the 
predecessors  of  the  savage  but  politic  Aztecs,  were  the 
builders  of  the  pyramidical  mountains  which  travellers 
and  antiquarians  have  found  abounding  in  Mexico  and 
Yucatan ;  but  it  is  a  matter  of  great  probability  that 
the  Aztec  race  carried  out  the  plans  conceived  by 
them,  though  not,  I  must  fain  believe,  for  the  same 
barbarous  purposes.  The  Mongolian  race,  coming  from 
the  adjacent  shores  of  Asia,  evidently  introduced  these 
horrid  rites.  As  to  the  origin  of  these  structures,  it 
is  a  fact  extremely  worth  dwelling  on,  that  in  the  South 
Sea  Islands  the  remains  of  similar  pyramidal  mounds, 
tumuli,  temples,  and  fortifications  are  found.  Now,  if 
the  comparative  age  of  the  bricks  or  stone  could  be 
ascertained,  it  would  lead  to  important  and  decisive 
results ;  for,  as  Paley  held,  circumstantial  evidence 
never  can  lie,  as  it  is  not  susceptible  of  being  contro- 
verted ;  whereas  assertions,  however  true,  can  be  con- 
tradicted :  it  is,  therefore,  more  trust-worthy  than  the 
other. 

The  largest,  and  probably  the  most  ancient  structure 
of  a  pyramidal  form  in  Anahuac  is  that  of  Cholula. 
Humboldt  informs  us,  that  in  the  present  day  this  teo- 
calli  (house  of  God)  is  called  the  Mountain  made  by 
the  hand  of  Man  [monte  hecho  a  manos).  '•'  At  a 
distance,"  continues  the  traveller,  "it  has  the  aspect 

of  a  natural  hill  covered  with  vegetation 

The  teo-calli  of  Cholula  has  four  stories,  all  of  equal 
height.  It  appears  to  have  been  constructed  exactly 
in  the  directions  of  the  four  cardinal  points ;  but  as 
the  edges  of  the  stories  are  not  very  distinct,  it  is 
difficult  to  ascertain   their  primitive  direction.     This 


ANCIENT  CITIES  OP  AMERICA. 


263 


pjramidical  monument  has  a  broader  basis  than  that 
of  any  other  edifice  of  the  same  kind  in  the  old  continent. 
I  measured  it  caiefully,  and  ascertained  that  its  per- 
pendicular height  is  only  fifty  metres  [Prescott,  177 
feet],  but  that  at  each  side  of  its  base  is  439  metres  [1423 
feet]  in  length.  Bernal  Diaz  del  Castillo,  a  common 
soldier  in  the  a.nny  of  Cortez,  amused  himself  by 
counting  the  steps  of  the  staircases  which  led  to  the 
platforms  of  the  teo-callis.  He  found  114  in  the  great 
temple  at  Tenochtitlan,  117  in  that  of  Tezcuco,  and 
120  in  that  of  Cholula."     .     .     . 

The  temple  of  Cholula  is  reported  in  the  traditions 
of  the  natives  to  have  been  built  by  giants,  who,  after 
the  Deluge,  began  to  raise  it  in  order  to  save  themselves 
in  case  of  another  flood,  but  the  irritated  deity  struck 
and  destroyed  their  labour.  This  legend  has  some 
points  of  resemblance  with  that  of  Babel ;  and  "  one," 
says  Prescott,  "  who  has  not  examined  the  subject,  will 
scarcely  credit  what  bold  hypotheses  have  been  reared 
on  this  slender  basis."  I  am  of  opinion  that  the  legend 
has  been  associated  with  the  pyramid  long  after  its 
building,  when  some  imaginative  genius  invented  it,  in 
pity  of  the  tale,  so  giving  it — 

"  A  local  habitation  and  a  name." 


This  is  confirmed  by  the  accidental  discovery  of  a 
stone  chamber  and  skeletons  in  the  pyramid,  many 
years  apo,  in  the  formation  of  a  road.  The  arched 
coiling  of  this  chamber  is  of  the  rudest  description, 
such  as  is  frequently  met  with  in  the  Pacific  islands. 

T  will  conclude  this  account  of  the  pyramid  of  Cholula, 
nhich  miglit  answer  for  n  description  of  all,  by  quoting 


264 


GRSAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


i'',^k 


'■^.-: 


CORTBZ. 


the  brilliant  description  of  the  latest  investigator  of 
Mexican  antiquities : — 

"  On  the  suiuaiit  stood  a  sumptuous  temple,  in  which 
was  the  image  of  the  inysiio  tlcity,  'God  of  the  Air/ 
with  ebon  features,  unlike  the  fair  cuinpiexion  which 
he  bore  upon  earth,  wearing  a  mitre  on  hi.i  head  v.'uving 
with  plumes  of  fire,  with  a  resplendoiit  collar  of  *:■>](] 
round  his  neck,  pendants  of  mosaic  turquoise  in  his 
ears,  a  jewelled  sceptre  in  one  hand,  and  a  shieM 
curiously  painted,  the  emblem  of  his  rule  over  tho 
winds,  in  the  other.  The  sanctity  of  the  place,  hallowed 
by  hoary  tradition,  and  the  magnificence  of  the  templo 
and  its  services,  made  it  an  object  of  vene/ation  thiougn- 
out  the  land,  and  pilgrims  from  the  furthest  corners  of 
Anahuac  came  to  offer  up  their  devotioos  at  the  shrine 


I 

'^ 

i 


ANCIBNT  CITIES  OF  AMERICA. 


267 


of  Qnetzalcoatl.  The  number  of  these  was  so  great  at 
to  give  an  air  of  mendicity  to  the  motley  population 
of  the  city ;  and  Cortez,  struck  with  the  novelty,  tells 
us  that  he  saw  multitudes  of  beggar's,  such  as  are  to 
be  found  in  the  enlightened  capitals  of  Europe ;  a 
whimsical  criterion  of  civilization,  which  must  place 
our  own  prosperous  land  somewhat  low  in  the  scale. 

"  Choluia  was  not  the  resort  only  of  the  indigent 
devotee.  Many  of  the  kindred  races  had  temples  of 
their  own  in  the  city,  in  the  same  manner  as  some 
Christian  nations  have  in  Rome,  and  each  temple  was 
provided  with  its  own  peculiar  ministers  for  the  service 
of  the  deity  to  whom  it  was  consecrated.  In  no  city 
was  there  seen  such  a  concourse  of  priests,  so  many 
processions,  such  pomp  of  ceremonial  sacrifice,  and 
religious  festivals.  Choluia  was,  in  short,  what  Mecca 
is  among  Mahomedans,  or  Jerusalem  among  Christians  ; 
it  was  the  Holy  City  of  Anahuac.  .  .  .  Nothing 
could  be  more  grand  than  th-^  view  which  met  the  eye 
from  the  area  on  the  truncated  summit  of  the  pyramid. 
Toward  the  west  stretched  that  bold  barrier  of  porphy- 
ritic  rock  which  nature  has  reared  around  the  valley 
of  Mexico,  with  the  huge  Popacatepetl  and  Iztaccihuatl, 
standing  like  two  colossal  sentinels  to  guard  the  entrance 
to  the  enchanted  region  Far  away  to  the  east  was 
seen  the  conical  head  of  Orizaba,  soaring  high  into  tlie 
clouds,  and  near  the  barren  though  beautifully-shaped 
Sierra  de  Malinche,  throwing  its  broad  shadows  over 
the  plain  of  Tlascala.  Three  of  these  are  volcanoes 
higher  than  the  highest  mountain  peak  in  Europe,  and 
shrouded  in  snows  which  never  melt  under  the  fierce 
sun  of  the  tropics.     At  the  foot  of  the  spectator  lay 


^ 


268 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORT.D. 


the  sacred  city  of  Cholula,  with  its  b)iglit  towers  and 
pinnacles  sparkling  in  the  sun,  reposing  amidst  gardens 
and  verdant  iirovea,  which  then  thickly  studded  the 
cultivated  < nvirons  ol'  the  capital.  Such  was  the 
magnificent  prospect  which  met  the  gaze  of  the  con- 
querors, and  \ua.y  still,  with  slight  change,  meet  that 
of  the  modern  traveller,  aa  from  the  platform  of  the 
great  pyramid  his  eye  wanders  over  the  fairest  portion 
of  the  beautiful  [)liiteau  of  Puebla."  /  .- 

,,,The  Casa  del  Gobernador,  House  of  tlie  Governor, 
at  Uxmal,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  city  palaces 
of  Central  xlmerica,  is  thus  described  by  Mr.  Cathor- 
■wood  :— 

The  *  Casa  del  Gobernador,'  or  House  of  the  Governor, 
is  one  of  the  most  extensive  and  important  of  the  ancient 
buildings  at  Uxmal,  in  Yucatan.  It  is  constructed 
entirely  of  hewn  stone,  and  measures  820  feet  m  front, 
by  40  feet  in  depth.  The  height  is  about  20  feet.  It 
has  eleven  doorways  in  front,  and  one  at  each  end. 
The  apartments  are  narrow,  seldom  exceeding  12  feet, 
just  large  enough  to  swing  a  hammock,  which  wan,  ynd 
still  is,  the  substitute  for  beds  thi-oufjhout  the  countrv. 
i^ofiae  of  the  rooins  measure  60  feet  in  length,  and  are 
2^  ft^t  high.  There  does  not  appear  to  iiave  been 
amy  internal  decoration  in  the  chami  ors,  i,(,r  are  there 
uny  windows.  The  lover  part  of  the  edifice  is  of  plam 
wrought  stone,  but  .  c  upjer  porti'^n  in  singuUrly  rich 
in  oinamenr.  Tak  ng  tiie  front,  -he  en4ii,  »nd  tlie 
rear  of  the  building,  t^li«re  >■>■  a  length  of  7C2  feet  of 
elaborate  carving,  on  which  t;v..o.es  of  eolour  ar«  still 
viiib'le.  The  peculiar  arch  of  the  couirvy  hag  been 
emp^yed  in  every  room.     The  lintels  of  tin-  doorw;iys 


I 


« 
s 


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CO 

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W 


tx) 


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n 


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m 


-  I 


ANCIENT  CITIES  OF  AMERICA. 


271 


were  of  wood,  a  more  costly  material  to  work  than 
stone,  but  less  durable.  Unfortunately,  they  have  all 
decayed,  and  the  masonry  they  supported  has,  in 
places,  fallen  down,  and  much  of  the  beauty  of  the 
building  is  thus  destroyed.  The  central  ornament  over 
the  principal  doorway  was  a  seated  figure,  of  which  but 
slight  traces  remain.  The  head-dress  of  feathers  is 
more  perfect,  and  appears  totally  disproportioned  to 
the  size  of  the  figure.  On  either  side  is  a  parallel  bar 
of  stone,  between  which  are  well-sculptured  hierogly- 
phics. The  cornice  was  perhaps  intended  to  represent 
the  coilings  of  a  serpent ;  it  continued  from  one  extremity 
of  the  building  to  the  other,  and  goes  entirely  round  it. 
The  Casa  del  Gobernador  stands  on  three  terraces ; 
the  lowest  is  three  feet  high,  fifteen  feet  wide,  and  575 
feet  long ;  the  second  is  20  feet  high,  250  feet  wide, 
and  545  feet  long ;  and  the  third  is  19  feet  high,  30 
feet  broad,  and  360  feet  long.  They  are  all  of  stone, 
and  in  a  tolerably  good  state  of  preservation." 

Even  here  in  the  wilderness,  where  it  might  be 
supposed  mysticism  would  not  be  found,  we  find  that 
symbolism  and  mysterious  import  of  number  which 
Seems  to  have  been  so  widely  spread  among  the  nations 
of  antiquity.  The  length  of  the  upper  platform  is  seen 
to  correspond  nearly  with  the  number  of  days  in  the 
year,  and  the  mysterious  emblem  of  eternity,  the 
serpent,  is  found  extending  its  portentous  length  around 
the  building,  which,  like  the  temples  of  India,  was 
consecrated  to  a  worship  of  the  nature  of  which,  except 
by  an  examination  of  the  simple  religions  of  the 
Polynesians,  we  shall  never  be  able  to  obtain  any 
definite  knowledge.     From  their   customs   alone   can 


27" 


«iirAT  ciTir^  uv  Tin:  AV(^nT,i». 


wo  nrrivo  nt  tho  solnfioji  of  fVr  ]>f(»]>lf'i"ns  of  rnrly 
mi^rntinns,  jmkI  to  thctn  I  avimiM  ficcorriinf'lv  rlii^"'-  fho 
sitfciition  of  tlie  stmlonts  of  tho  j.fiysicnl  (iimribntion 
(tf  tlie  rucos  of  mankiixl.  T)  rotiirti  to  UxttimI.  Ir  is 
Jinich  hottnr  to  ;:^ivc  tlie  doscviplioDs  of  pyc-witncssos 
x'tiiix)  to  aftofnpt  tlio  (ronipilation  ofono  from  tho  accoun.'s 
givon  us  hy  travellers  ;  I  shall  thoreforo  quote  ?ni.iy 
passagps  ffotn  a  lale  investitrator  i.f  this  rliHtrict: — 


rp 


The  first  (thjoct,"  i^ays  Stephens,  "that  nvro>rs  xhn 
eye  on  enierginjr  A'oin  the  fovest  is  the  hnilding  ff>  i\,o 
right  of  the  spetttalor.  Prawn  <»{!"  h}'  niounds  of  luin.H 
and  piles  of  gigantic  buildings,  tiie  eye  returns,  and 
again  fastens  upon  this  Iwfty  str  ictuie.  It  was  tlie 
first  hi'ilding  I  entered.  From  its  front  doorway  f 
counted  sixteen  elevations,  with  broken  walls  .iiid 
niounds  of  stones,  rml  vast,  magniileent  edifiot^s  w  liir-h 
at  that  distan'.'r'  seemed  nntouehed  by  time,  anri  defy- 
inp-  ruin.  \  stcod  in  the  doorway  v.hon  tho  sun  went 
down,  throv  ing  from  the  buihlings  a  prndlgions  bic.'idtlj 
of  shadow,  (N-ivkening  the  terraei'S  on  which  they  sto(td, 
and  presentirjg  a  seenc  strange  enough  for  a  work  of 
etnjliantnicnt.        '    ['■  ''  '     '        "    ' '*      ' 

"  This  building  is  sixtv-eiL'ht    feet  Ion''. 


ne  e)ev;t 


■). 


tion  on  wl.ieh  it  stan<ls  is  bnill  up  solid  finm  t).-  piain, 
entircdv    ai'tificial.      Its    form    is    n'jt    nvianiid;ii,    bur 


)il  and  round 


iuir,  beinu  'J40  feet  lunir  at  the  bnve 


oblo, 

and  120  broad,  and  it  is  protected  all  round,  to  tho 
very  ton,  bv  a  wall  of  square  stones.  Perhan-  the  hioh 
ruined  senlptures  at  Palenque,  which  wo  have  called 
pyramidal,  and  wliich  wore  i-o  ruined  th^t  wo  Ponld  not 
make  them  oiU.  cxaetly.  were  originuily  of  the  same 
ahflpe.      Or.   the  ftast    ^^ide  ••f  lUf  struc-tin'^  im   a  b>' -ad 


'       ..' 


ANCIEKT  CITIKS  OF   AMSRXCA. 


278 


range  of  stone  steps,  between  eight  and  nine  inches 
high,  and  so  steep  that  great  care  is  necessary  in 
ascending;  and  descending ;  of  these  we  counted  a  hun- 
area  and  one  in  their  places.  Nine  were  wanting  at 
the  top,  and  perhaps  twenty  were  covered  with  rubbish 
at  the  bottom ;  at  the  summit  of  the  steps  is  a  stone 
platform  four  feet  and  a  half  wide,  rut;  ng  along  tho 
rear  of  the  building.  There  is  no  (^  ^'n  the  centre, 
but  at  each  end  a  door  opens  into  an  !  r,   eighteen 

feet  long  and  nine  wide,  and  between  ,v    's  a  third 

apartment,  of  the  same  width,  and  thirty-four  feet  long. 
The  whole  building  is  of  stone ;  inside,  the  walls  are  of 
polished  smoothness ;  outside,  up  to  the  height  of  the 
door,  the  stones  are  plain  and  square ;  above  this  line, 
there  is  a  rich  cornice  or  moulding ;  and  from  this  to 
the  top  of  the  building,  all  the  sides  are  covered  with 
rich  and  elaborate  sculptured  ornaments,  forming  a 
sort  of  arabesqv  e.  The  style  and  character  of  these 
ornaments  were  entirely  different  from  those  of  any  we 
had  seen  before,  either  in  that  country  or  any  other ; 
they  bore  no  resemblance  whatever  to  those  of  Copan 
or  Palenque,  and  were  quite  as  unique  and  peculiar. 
The  designs  were  strange  and  incomprehensible,  very 
elaborate,  sometimes  grotesque,  but  often  simple, 
tasteful,  and  beautiful.  Among  the  intelligible  sub- 
jects are  squares  an.l  diamonds,  with  busts  of  human 
beings,  heads  of  leopards,  and  compositions  of  leaves 
and  flowers,  and  the  ornaments  known  every  where  as 
grecques.  The  ornaments,  which  succeed  each  other, 
are  all  dlfterent ;  the  whole  form  an  extraordinary  mass 
of  richness  and  complexity,  and  the  eifect  is  both  grand 
anu  curious.     And  the  construction  of  these  ornaments 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


If  IIIM  IM 
■-  !■■  mil  2.2 

ii:  lis  llilio 


1.8 


1.25      1.4   III  1.6 

^ 

6" 

► 

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V] 


/ 


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/A 


Hiotographic 

Sdences 

Corporation 


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Q> 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


<i^  #?  ^   A 


^ 


N> 


Q> 


274 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WOULD. 


is  not  less  peculiar  and  striking  than  the  general  effect 
There  were  no  tablets  or  single  stones,  each  representing 
separately  and  by  itself  an  entire  subject ;  but  every 
ornament  or  combination  is  made  up  of  separate  stones, 
on  each  of  which  part  of  the  subject  was  carved,  and 
which  was  then  set  in  its  place  in  the  walls.  Each 
stone  by  itself  was  an  unmeaning  fractional  part ;  but, 
placed  by  the  side  of  others,  helped  to  make  a  whole, 
which  without  it  would  be  incomplete.  Perhaps  it 
may,  with  propriety,  be  called  a  species  of  sculptured 
mosaic. 

"  From  the  front  door  of  this  extraordinary  building 
a  pavement  of  hard  cement,  twenty-two  feet  long  by 
fifteen  broad,  leads  to  the  roof  of  another  building, 
seated  lower  down  on  the  artificial  structure.  There 
is  no  staircase  or  other  visible  communication  between 
the  two;  but,  descending  by  a  pile  of  rubbish  Mlo:,g 
the  side  of  the  lower  one,  and  groping  around  tlie 
corner,  we  entered  a  doorway  in  front  four  feet  wide, 
and  found  inside  a  chamber  twelve  feet  hijxh,  Avith 
corridors  running  the  whole  breadth,  of  wliich  the 
front  one  was  seven  feet  three  inches  deep,  and  tlie 
other  three  feet  nine  inches.  The  inner  walls  Avere  of 
smooth  and  polished  square  stones,  and  there  was  no 
inner  door,  or  moans  of  communication  witli  any  other 
place.  Outside,  the  doorway  was  loaded  witli  orna- 
ments, and  the  whole  exterior  was  tlte  sumo  as  that 
of  the  building  described  above.  Tiie  steps  leading 
from  the  doorway  to  the  foot  of  the  stiucture  were 
entirely  destroyed. 

*  The  Indians  regard  these  ruins  with  superstitious 
reverence.     They  will  not  go  near  them  ut  night,  and 


ANCIENT   CITIES   OF   AMERICA. 


276 


they  have  the  old  story  that  immense  treasure  is 
hidden  among  them.  Each  of  the  buildings  has  its 
name  given  to  it  by  the  Indians.  This  is  called  the 
Casa  del  Anano,  or  House  of  the  Dwarf,  and  it  is 
consecrated  by  a  wild  legend,  which,  as  I  sat  in  the 
doorway,  I  received  from  the  lips  of  an  Indian,  as 
follows : — 

"  There  was  an  old  woman  who  lived  in  a  hut  on  the 
very  spot  now  occupied  by  the  structure  on  which 
this  building  is  perched,  and  opposite  the  Casa  del 
Gobernador,  who  went  mourning  that  she  had  no 
children.  In  her  distress  she  one  day  took  an  egg, 
covered  it  with  a  cloth,  and  laid  it  away  carefully  in  one 
corner  of  the  hut.  Every  day  she  went  to  look  at 
it,  until  one  morning  she  found  the  egg  hatched,  and  a 
eriatura,  or  creature,  or  baby,  born.  The  old  woman 
was  delighted,  and  called  it  her  son,  provided  it  with 
a  nurse,  took  good  care  of  it,  so  that  in  one  year  it 
walked  and  talked  like  a  man ;  and  then  it  stopped 
growing.  The  old  woman  was  more  delighted  than 
ever,  and  said  he  would  be  a  great  lord  or  king.  One 
day  she  told  him  to  go  to  the  house  of  the  Gobernador, 
and  challenge  him  to  a  trial  of  strength.  The  dwarf 
tried  to  beg  oflF,  but  the  old  woman  insisted,  and  he 
went.  The  guard  admitted  him,  and  he  flung  his 
challenge  at  the  Gobernador.  The  latter  smiled,  and 
told  him  to  lift  a  stone  of  three  arrohas^  or  seventy- 
five  pounds ;  at  which  the  little  fellow  cried  and 
returned  to  his  mother,  who  sent  him  back  to  say  that 
if  the  Gobernador  lifted  it  first,  he  would  afterwards. 
The  Gobernador  lifted  it,  and  the  dwarf  immediately 
did  the  same.     The  Gobernador  then  tried  him  with 


276 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


Other  feat8  of  strength,  and  the  dwarf  regularly  did 
"whatever  was  done  by  the  Gobernador.  At  length, 
indignant  at  being  matched  by  a  dwarf,  the  Gober- 
nador told  him  that  unless  he  made  a  house  in  one 
night  higher  than  any  in  the  place  he  would  kill  him. 
The  poor  dwarf  again  returned  crying  to  his  mother, 
who  bade  him  not  to  be  disheartened,  and  the  next 
morning  he  awoke  and  found  himself  in  this  lofty 
building.  The  Gobernador,  .seeing  it  from  the  door  of 
his  palace,  was  astonished,  and  sent  for  the  dwarf,  and 
told  him  to  collect  two  bundles  of  cogoiol,  a  wood  of 
a  very  hard  species,  with  one  of  which  he,  the  Gober- 
nador, would  beat  the  dwarf  over  the  head,  and 
afterwards  the  dwarf  should  beat  him  with  the  other. 
The  dwarf  again  returned  crying  to  his  mother,  but 
the  latter  told  him  not  to  be  afraid,  and  put  on  the 
crown  of  his  head  a  tortillita  de  ti'igo,  a  small  thin 
cake  of  wheat  flour.  The  trial  was  made  in  the 
presence  of  all  the  great  men  in  the  city.  The 
Gobernador  broke  the  whole  of  his  bundle  over  tlie 
dwarf's  head,  without  hurting  the  little  fellow  in  the 
least.  He  then  tried  to  avoid  the  trial  on  his  own 
head,  but  he  had  given  his  word  in  the  v»es'  ^e  of  his 
officers,  and  was  obliged  to  submit.  TL':  s  .d  blow 
of  the  dwarf  broke  his  skull  in  pieces,  and  all  the 
spectators  hailed  the  victor  as  their  nev^  Gobernador. 
The  old  woman  then  died ;  but  at  the  Indian  village 
of  Mani,  seventeen  leagues  distant,  there  is  a  deep 
well,  from  which  opens  a  cave  which  leads  under  ground, 
an  immense  distance,  to  Merida.  In  this  cave,  on  the 
bank  of  a  stream,  under  the  shade  of  a  large  tree,  pits 
an  old  woman,  with  a  serpent  by  her  side,  who  !^e!l^ 


ANCIENT   CITIES   OF   AMERICA. 


277 


water  in  small  quantities,  not  for  money,  but  only  for 
a  criatura,  or  buby,  to  give  the  serpent  to  eat;  and 
this  old  woman  is  the  mother  of  the  dwarf.  Such  is 
the  fanciful  legend  connected  with  this  edifice ;  but 
it  hardly  seemed  m'ore  strange  than  the  structure  to 
which  it  referred. 

"  The  other  building  is  called  by  a  name  which 
may  originally  have  had  some  reference  to  the  vestals, 
who,  in  Mexico,  were  employed  to  keep  burning  the 
sacred  fire;  but  I  believe,  in  the  mouths  of  the  In- 
dians of  Uxmal,  it  has  no  reference  whatever  to 
history,  tradition,  or  legend,  but  is  derived  entirely 
from  Spanish  associations.  It  is  called  Gasa  de  las 
Monjas,  or  House  of  the  Nuns,  or  the  Convent.  It  is 
situated  on  an  artificial  elevation  about  fifteen  feet 
high.  Its  form  is  quadrangular,  and  one  side,  accord- 
ing to  my  measurement,  is  ninety-five  paces  in  length. 
It  was  not  possible  to  pa  ie  all  around  it,  from  the 
masses  of  fallen  stones  which  encumber  it  in  some 
places,  but  it  may  be  safely  stated  at  2.50  feet  square. 
Like  the  House  of  the  Dwarf,  it  is  built  entirely  of  cut 
stone,  and  the  whole  exterior  is  filled  with  the  same 
rich,  elaborate,  and  incomprehensible  sculptured  stone 
ornaments. 

"  The  principal  entrance  is  by  a  large  doorway  into 
a  beautiful  patio  or  court-yard,  grass-grown,  but  clear 
of  trees ;  and  the  whole  of  the  inner  fagade  is  orna- 
mented more  richly  and  elaborately  than  the  outside, 
and  in  a  more  perfect  state  of  preservation.  On  one 
side,  the  combination  was  in  the  form  of  diamonds, 
simple,  chaste,  and  tasteful ;  and  at  the  head  of  tho 
court-yard,  two  gigantic   serpents,  with   their   heada 

2i 


27S 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


broken  and  fallen,  were  winding  from  opposite  direc- 
tions along  the  whole  fagade. 

"  In  front,  and  on  a  line  with  the  door  of  the  con- 
vent, is  another  building  on  a  lower  foundation,  of  the 
same  general  character,  caUed  Casa  de  Tortugas,  from 
sculptured  turtles  over  the  doorway.  This  building 
had  in  several  places  huge  cracks,  as  if  it  had  been 
shaken  by  an  earthquake.  It  stands  nearly  in  the 
centre  of  the  ruins,  and  the  top  commands  a  view  all 
round,  of  singular  but  wrecked  magnificence. 

"Beyond  this,  a  little  to  the  right,  approached  by 
passing  over  mounds  of  ruins,  was  another  building 
which,  at  a  great  distance,  attracted  our  attention  by 
its  conspicuous  ornaments.  We  reached  it  by  ascend- 
ing two  high  terraces.  The  main  building  was  similar 
to  the  others,  and  along  the  top  ran  a  high  ornamental 
wall,  which,  from  the  peculiar  style  of  decoration,  was 
called  Casa  de  Palormos  or  House  of  Pigeons,  and  at 
a  distance  it  looked  more  like  a  row  of  Pigeon-houses 
than  any  thing  else, 

*'  In  front  was  a  broad  avenue,  with  a  line  of  ruins 
on  each  side,  leading  beyond  the  wall  of  the  convent 
to  a  great  mound  of  ruins,  which  probably  had  once 
been  a  building  with  which  it  was  connected;  and 
beyond  this  is  a  lofty  building  in  the  rear,  to  which 
this  seemed  but  a  vestibule  or  porter's  lodge.  Be- 
tween the  two  was  a  large  patio  or  court-yard,  with 
corridors  on  each  side,  and  the  ground  of  the  court- 
yard sounded  hollow.  In  one  place  the  surface  was 
broken,  and  I  descended  into  a  large  excavation 
cemented,  which  had  probably  been  intended  as  a 
granary.     At  the  back  of  the  court-yard,  on  a  high 


ii 


STATUE  FOLND  AT  COPAN. 


ANCIENT   CITIES   OF   AMERICA. 


281 


broken  terrace,  which  it  was  diflScuIt  to  climb,  was 
another  edifice  more  ruined  than  the  others,  but  which 
from  the  style  of  its  remains,  and  its  commanding 
position,  overlooking  every  other  building  except  the 
House  of  the  Dwarf,  an^  apparently  haying  been 
connected  with  the  distant  mass  of  ruins  in  front, 
must  have  been  one  of  the  most  important  in  the  city, 
perhaps  the  principal  temple.  The  Indians  call  it 
the  quartet  or  guard-house.  It  commanded  a  view  of 
other  ruins  not  contained  in  the  enumeration  of  those 
seen  from  the  House  of  the  Dwarf;  and  the  whole 
presented  a  scene  of  barbaric  magnificence  utterly 
confounding  all  previous  notions  in  r^ard  to  the 
aboriginal  inha;bitants  of  this  country,  and  calliag  up 
emotions  which  had  not  been  wakened  to  the  same 
extent  by  any  thing  we  had  yet  seen." 

Such  is  the  minute  and  interesting  description  of  the 
ruined  city  of  Uxmal  given  us  by  Mr.  Stephens. 

The  same  writer  describes  the  ruins  of  Palenque 
and  Copan.  In  the  ruins  of  the  latter  he  found  the 
monument  here  presented.  He  states  that  it  forms  a 
prominent  object  in  the  ruins  of  Copan,  and  that  it  is 
situated  at  tlie  foot  of  a  wall  which  rises  in  steps  to  an 
elevation  of  thirty  or  forty  feet.  The  height  of  this 
singular  monument  is  eleven  feet  nine  inches ;  its 
breadth  about  three  feet  on  each  side,  and  it  stands  on 
a  pedestal  which  must  have  been  seven  feet  square. 
A  little  above  the  centre  of  the  north  side,  which  is 
here  represented,  is  a  sculptured  face,  presamed  to  be 
a  portrait  of  some  king  or  hi-ro,  nlio  had  probably  been 
deified  after  his  death.  Kinu;  Soionion  said,  *  there  is 
nothing  new  under  the  sun  ;'  and  liero  we  see  an  instauco 

21* 


282 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE    WORLD. 


in  point ;  for  tlio  imago  on  tliis  monument  is  that  of  a 
person  who  wore  raou.st!iel)os,  jis  do  men  of  fashion  of 
the  present  tl.iy.  Beneath  ihe  portrait  arc  seen  tlio 
hands  of  the  image  phiced  upon  the  hreust,  and  they 
are  apparently  very  Avell formed.  The  other  parts 
of  the  front  of  the  monument,  as  well  as  the  three 
remaining  sides,  are  riclily  Bciili>tured  with  strange 
figures,  kingly  crowns,  and  what  appear  to  be  symboHcal 
representations  of  ancient  customs,  fables,  or  events. 
Within  twelve  feet  stands  an  altar  of  colossal  size, 
formed,  like  the  monument  itself,  of  a  soft  gritty  stone, 
which  had  once  been  painted  red,  as  some  few  vestiges 
of  the  pigment  are  now  to  be  seen.  This  altar  is 
ornamented  with  a  death's  head,  and  other  gloomy 
symbols,  and  its  top  is  cut  into  grooves  or  channels, 
supposed  to  have  been  intended  to  carry  off  the  blood 
of  human  or  animal  victims  immolated  in  sacrifice. 
The  proximity  of  such  a  structure  to  the  monument  wo 
have  described,  must  surely  strengthen  the  impression 
that  the  sculptured  portrait  is  that  of  some  object  of 
worship.  i 

.f  Mr.  Norman,  an  American  traveller,  thus  describes 
a  portion  of  the  ruins  of  Chi-Chen,  another  of  the 
ancient  cities  of  Yuca  tan : — 

"  I  entered  at  an  opening  in  the  western  angle,  wliich 
I  conceived  to  be  the  main  entrance;  and  presumed, 
from  the  broken  walls,  ceilings,  and  pillars  still  standing, 
that  the  opposite  end  had  been  the  location  (tf  the 
shrine  or  altar.  The  distance  between  the.se  t»vo 
extremes  is  four  hundred  aiid  fifty  feet.  The  wall.s 
stand  upon  an  ehjvated  foundation  of  about  sixteen 
feet.     Of*  the  entrance,  tji-  western  end,  about  one-huli* 


ANCIENT  CITIES  OF  AMERICA. 


288 


remains  ;  the  interior  showing  broken  rooms,  and 
ceilings  not  entirely  defaced.  The  exterior  is  composed 
of  large  stones,  beautifully  hewn,  and  laid  in  fillet  and 
moulding  work.  The  opposite,  or  altar  end,  consists 
of  similar  walls,  but  has  two  sculptured  pillars,  much 
defaced  by  the  falling  ruins — six  feet  only  remaining 
in  view  above  them.  These  pillars  measure  about  two 
feet  in  diameter.  The  walls  are  surrounded  with 
masses  of  sculptured  and  hewn  stone,  broken  columns, 
and  ornaments,  which  had  fallen  from  the  walls  them- 
selves, and  which  are  covered  with  a  rank  and  luxuriant 
vegetation,  and  even  with  trees,  through  which  I  was 
obliged  to  cut  my  way  with  my  Indian  knife.  In  the 
rear  of  the  pillars  are  the  remains  of  a  room,  the  back 
ceilings  only  existing ;  sufficient,  however,  to  show  that 
they  were  of  rare  workmanship. 

"  The  southern,  or  right-hand  wall,  as  you  enter,  is  in 
the  best  state  of  preservation,  the  highest  part  of  which, 
yet  standing,  is  about  fifty  feet ;  where,  also,  the  remains 
of  rooms  are  still  to  be  seen.  The  other  parts,  on  either 
side,  are  about  twenty-six  feet  high,  two  hundred  and 
fifty  long,  and  sixteen  thick ,  and  about  one  hundred 
and  thirty  apart.  The  interior,  or  inner  surface  of 
these  walls,  is  quite  perfect,  finely  finished  with  smootli 
stones,  cut  uniformly  in  squares  of  about  two  feet. 
About  the  centre  of  these  walls,  on  both  sides,  near  tho 
top,  are  placed  stone  rings,  carve«l  from  an  immense 
block,  and  inserted  in  the  wall  l»y  a  long  shaft,  and 
projecting  from  it  about  four  feet.  They  measure 
about  four  feet  in  diameter,  and  two  in  thiekness — tho 
sides  beautifully  carved.  t 

"  The   extreme  ends   of  the   side-walla   arc   about 


>-, 


284 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WOULD. 


equidistant  from  thoso  of  tlie  shrino  and  eutraDco. 
The  Bpace  intervening  is  filled  up  with  stones  and 
rubbish  of  vralls,  showing  n  connexion  in  the  form  of  a 
curve.  In  the  space  formed  by  these  walls  are  piles 
of  stones,  evidently  being  a  part  of  them  ;  but  there 
were  not  enough  of  them,  however,  to  carry  out  the 
supposition  that  this  vast  temple  had  ever  been  enclosed. 
At  the  outer  base  of  the  southern  wall  are  the  remains 
of  a  room  ;  one  side  of  which,  with  the  angular 
ceiling,  is  quite  perfect ;  measuring  fourteen  feet  long 
and  six  wide.  The  parts  remaining  are  finished  with 
sculptured  blocks  of  stone  of  about  one  foot  square, 
representing  Indian  figures  with  feather  head-dresses, 
armed  with  bows  and  arrows,  their  noses  ornamented 
with  rings;  carrying  in  one  hand  bows  and  arrows, 
and  in  the  other  a  musical  instrument  similar  to  those 
that  are  now  used  by  the  Indians  of  the  country. 
These  figures  were  interspersed  with  animals  resembling 
the  crocodile.  Near  this  room  I  found  a  square  pillar, 
only  five  feet  of  which  remained  above  the  ruins.  It 
was  carved  on  all  sides  with  Indian  figures,  as  large  as 
life,  and  apparently  in  warlike  attitudes.  Fragments 
of  a  similar  kind  were  scattered  about  in  the  vicinity. 

^'From  this  room,  or  base,  I  passed  round,  and 
ascended  over  vast  piles  of  the  crumbling  ruins,  pulling 
myself  up  by  the  branches  of  trees,  with  which  they 
are  covered,  to  the  top  of  the  wall ;  where  I  found  a 
door-way,  filled  up  with  stones  and  rubbish,  which  I 
removed,  and,  after  much  labour,  effected  an  entrance 
into  a  room  measuring  eight  by  twenty-four  feet ;  the 
ceiling  of  which  was  of  the  acute-angled  arch,  and 
perfected  by  layers  of  flat  stones.     The  walls  were 


Ml 


il 


■**. 


ANCIENT  CITIES  OF  AMERICA. 


287 


finely  finished  with  square  blocks  of  stone,  which  had 
been  richly  ornamented.  Even  yet  the  heads  of  Indians, 
with  shields  and  lances,  could  be  distinguished  in  the 
colouring.  '      « 

"  The  square  pillars  of  the  door-way  are  carved  with 
Indians,  flowers,  borders,  and  spear-heads  ;  all  of  which 
I  judged  to  have  once  been  coloured.  The  lintel,  which 
supported  the  top,  is  of  the  zuporte  wood,  beautifully 
carved,  and  in  good  preservation.  One  of  the  Indian 
head-dresses  was  composed  of  a  cap  and  flowers. 

"  Immediately  in  front  of  the  door- way  is  a  portion 
of  a  column,  to  which  neither  cap  nor  base  was  attached. 
It  measured  about  three  feet  in  diameter,  with  its  whole 
suuface  sculptured  ;  but  it  was  so  obliterated  by  time, 
that  the  lines  could  not  be  traced.  Four  feet  of  its 
length  only  could  be  discovered.  It  was,  evidently, 
imbedded  in  the  ruins  to  a  great  depth.  Numerous 
blocks  of  square  hewn  stones,  and  others,  variously  and 
1)eautifully  carved,  were  lying  in  confusion  near  this 
column. 

"  Of  the  exterior  of  these  walls,  a  sufiicient  portion 
still  exists  to  show  the  fine  and  elaborate  workmanship 
of  the  cornices  and  entablatures,  though  the  latter  are 
much  broken  and  defaced.  They  are  composed  of 
immense  blocks  of  stone,  laid  with  the  greatest  regu- 
larity and  precision,  the  facades  of  which  are  inter- 
spersed with  flowers,  borders,  and  animals. 

"'  From  this  portion  of  the  ruins  I  cut  my  way, 
through  a  dense  mass  of  trees  and  vegetation,  to  the 
eastern  extremity  of  the  walls,  the  top  of  which  was 
much  dilapidated,  and  obstructed  witli  occasional  piles 
of  broken  and  hewn  stone.    On  my  return,  I  descended 


288 


GREAT   ClTiRS    OF   THE    WORLD. 


\ 


to,  and  walked  along  the  outside  base  of  the  wall  to  the 
rear  of  the  shrine,  and  over  immense  blocks  of  hewn 
and  carved  stone,  some  of  which  were,  no  doubt,  the 
hutments  of  altar  walls ;  as  similar  blocks  were  near 
here  appropriated  to  such  purposes. 

"  I  returned  by  the  outside  of  the  northern  wall. 
The  whole  dii^ance  was  filled  up  with  heaps  of  ruins, 
overgrown  with  trees  and  vines;  through  which  I 
cleared  ray  way  with  the  greatest  diflficulty. 

"  Situated  about  three  rods  south-Avest  of  the  ruins 
of  the  Dome,  are  those  of  the  House  of  the  Caciques. 
I  cut  my  way  through  the  thick  growth  of  small  wood 
to  this  sublime  pile,  and  by  the  aid  of  my  compass  was 
enabled  to  reach  the  east  front  of  the  building.  Here 
I  felled  the  trees  that  hid  it,  and  the  whole  front  was 
opened  to  my  view,  presenting  the  most  strange  and 
incomprehensible  pile  of  architecture  that  my  eyes  ever 
beheld — elaborate,  elegant,  stupendous,  yet  belonging 
to  no  order  now  known  to  us.  The  front  of  this 
wonderful  edifice  measures  thirty-two  feet,  and  itfj 
height  twenty,  extending  to  the  main  building  fifty  feet. 
Over  the  door-way,  which  favours  the  Egyptian  style 
of  architecture,  is  a  heavy  lintel  of  stone,  containing 
two  double  rows  of  hieroglvphics,  with  a  sculptured 
ornament  intervening.  Above  these  nre  the  remains 
of  hooks  carved  in  stone,  with  raised  lines  of  drapei-y 
running  through  them  ;  which,  apparently,  have  been 
broken  off"  bv  the  falling  of  the  heavv  finishing  from 
the  top  of  the  building  ;  over  which,  surrounded  by  a 
variety  of  chaste  and  beautifully  executed  borders, 
encircled  within  a  wreath,  is  a  female  figure  in  a  sitting 
posture,    in    basso-relievo,    having    a    head-dress    of 


25 


"^^riH^O^r 


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t 

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/ 

ANOIEXT  riTIKS  OV  AMERICA. 


291 


featlei'!*,  cords,  and  tassels,  and  the  neck  ornamented. 
The  an;5lt'8  of  this  building  are  tastefully  curved.  The 
ornanionts  continue  around  the  sides,  which  are  divided 
into  two  compavtnionts,  different  in  their  arrangement, 
though  not  in  style.  Attached  to  the  angles  are  large 
projecring  hooks,  skilfully  worked,  and  perfect  rosettes 
and  star»,  with  spears  revertJed,  are  put  together  with 
the  utmost  precision. 

f  *'  The  ornaments  are  composed  of  small  square  blocks 
of  ^t  >ne.  cut  to  the  depth  of  about  one  to  one  and  a 
lialf  inche;,  npparently  with  the  most  delicate  instru- 
ments, and  insertel  by  a  shaft  in  the  wall.  The 
wall  is  made  of  large  and  uniformly  square  blocks  of 
limestone,  set  in  a  mortar  which  appears  to  be  as  durable 
as  the  stone  itself.  In  the  ornamental  borders  of  this 
building  I  could  discover  but  little  analogy  with  those 
known  to  me.  The  most  striking  were  those  of  the 
cornice  and  entablature,  chevron  and  the  cable  moulding, 
which  are  characteristic  of  the  Norman  architecture. 

"  The  sides  have  three  door-ways,  each  opening  into 
small  apartments,  which  are  finished  with  smooth  square 
blocks  of  stone;  the  floors  of  Uie  same  material,  but 
have  been  covered  with  cement,  which  is  now  broken. 
The  apartments  are  small,  owing  to  the  massive  wails 
enclosing  them,  and  the  acute-angletl  arch,  forming  the 
ceiling.  The  working  and  hiying  of  the  stone  are  as 
perfect  as  they  could  have  been  under  the  directions 
of  a  modern  architect." 

Mr.  Norman  thus  describes  the  ruins  of  Zayi,  an 
ancient  city  in  Yucatan  : — 
i   "  The  Ruins  of  Zayi  are  situated  in  the  midst  of  a 


292 


oncvT  r;rTrr=;  or  rnr:  rop.T.T). 


\ 


succession  of  beautiful  iii'i!-*,  fonniMir  sToniul  them,  on 
every  side,  nn  cnoliantinsi  l;ni(ls(M{H\ 

"The  princintil  one.  in  cuuiposcf]  of  ;i  «iu,<_'1e  structure, 
an  immonHie  pile,  facing  llio  Houth.  :iu<i  standing  upon 
a  slight  natural  elevation.  The  first  foundation  is  now 
80  broken  tliat  its  original  foi'tn  cannot  ho  fully  deter- 
mined ;  hut  it  judhaldy  was  tliat  of  a  paiallelogram. 
Its  front  v.-all  kImmv?  the  rijoains  of  ronn^s  and  ceilings, 
with  occasional-  pilhiv:*,  which,  no  doubt,  supported  the 
corridors.  The  height  of  this  wall  is  about  twenty 
feet,  and,  as  near  nn  I  was  able  to  measure  around  its 
base,  (owing  to  tlie  accumulation  of  ruins,)  it  was 
ascertained  to  be  two  hundred  and  sixty-eight  feet 
long,  and  one  hundred  and  sixteen  wide. 

"In  the  centre  of  this  foundation  stands  the  main 
building,  the  western  half  only  remaining,  with  a  portion 
of  the  steps,  outside,  leading  to  the  top.  This  part 
shows  a  succession  of  corridors,  occupying  the  whole 
front,  each  supported  by  two  pillars,  with  plain  square 
caps  and  plinths,  and  intervening  spaces,  filled  with 
rows  of  small  ornamented  pillars.  In  the  rear  of  these 
corridors  are  rooms  of  small  dimensions  and  angular 
ceilings,  without  any  li<:ht  except  that  wliich  the  front 
affords.  Over  these  corridors,  or  pillars,  is  a  fine 
moulding  finish,  its  angle  ornamented  with  a  hook 
similar  to  those  of  Chi-Chen.  Above  this  moulding  is 
a  finish  of  small  plain  round  pillars,  or  standards, 
interspersed  with  squares  of  fine  ornamental  carvings  ; 
the  centre  of  the  fagade  showing  the  remains  of  more 
elaborate  work,  concentrated  within  a  border,  the 
arrangement  of  which  is  lost.  There  is  an  evident 
j^nnlogy  existing  between  these  ornaments  and  those 


» 


OB 

o 


\^.* 


AKCIEXT  CITIES  OP  AMBRIOA. 


fi95 


of  Kabbah,  but  order  is  less  apparent.    I  coald  discover 
no  resemblance  whatever  to  those  of  Cbi-Cben. 

"  Over  these  rooms  of  the  main  building  is  another 
terrace,  or  foundation,  in  the  centre  of  which  is  a 
building  in  similar  ruins  to  those  under  it;  having 
also,  broken  stops  leading  to  tho  top.  It  stands  upon 
a  foundation,  apparently,  of  six  to  eight  feet  in  height, 
occupying  about  two-thirds  of  the  area  ;  the  residue, 
probably,  forming  a  promenade.  There  are  three 
doorways  yet  remaining,  the  lintels  and  sides  of  which 
are  broken,  and  which  have  caused  the  walls  above  to 
fall  down.  Tho  walls  of  this  part  of  the  edifice  are 
constructed  of  hewn  stone,  without  any  signs  ef  orna- 
ment. A  plain  finished  moulding  runs  through  the 
centre ;  portions  of  the  cornice  still  remain,  with  three 
or  four  pieces  of  flat  projecting  stones,  which  formed  * 
part  of  the  top  finish. 

"  The  whole  extent  of  the  rear  is  covered  with 
confused  piles  of  ruins,  overgrown  with  trees.  Near 
by  these  are  fragments  of  walls  and  rooms,  with  a  few 
ornaments  yet  remaining  about  them.  Some  of  the 
rooms  appear  to  have  been  single,  and  apart  from  all 
other  buildings.  There  are  also  various  mounds  in 
the  vicinity." 

For  an  account  of  some  of  the  more  remarkable 
ruins  in  Mexico  proper,  U'Uich  we  subjoin,  we  are 
indebted  to  the  lively  and  entertaining  work  of  Brantz 
Mayer,  Esq.,  of  Baltimore,  entitled  "Mexico,  As  it 
Was  and  As  it  Is,"  The  following  is  extracted  from 
his  description  of  the  ruins  of  the  pyramid  of  Xochi- 
calco : — 

"At  the  distance  of  six  leagues  from  the  city  of 


290 


GREAT  CXTISS  OP  TnE  WORLD. 


BVIMS  OP  ZOCniCALCO. 


Cuernavaca  lies  a  cerrOj  three  hundred  feet  in  height, 
which,  with  the  ruins  that  croAvn  it  is  known  by  the 
name  of  Xochicalco,  or  the  "  Hill  of  Flowers."  Tlie 
base  of  this  eminence  is  surrounded  by  tho  very  distinct 
remains  of  a  deep  and  wile  ditch ;  its  summit  i>j 
attained  by  five  f»piv!il  terraces;  the  walls  tliat  support 
them  are  built  of  stone,  joined  by  cement,  and  arc  still 
quite  perfect ;  and  at  rej^ular  distances,  as  if  to  buttioas 
these  terraces,  there  are  remnins  of  bulwarks  shaped 
like  the  bastions  of  a  fortification.  The  summit  of  the 
hill  is  a  wide  esplanade,  on  the  cnstern  side  of  which 
are  still  perceptible  three  truncated  cones,  resembling 
the  tumuli  among  many  similar  ruins  in  Mexico.  On 
tho  other  sides  there  are  also  large  heaps  of  loose  stones 


73 

> 


O 

> 

> 
a! 


ANCIENT   CITIES   OP   AVBRTCA. 


299 


of  irregular  shape,  wliich  tsrem  to  hav"^  formed  por- 
tions of  Biniilar  mountis  or  tnn.  Ji,  or,  perliups,  part? 
of  fortifications  in  connection  with  tlio  wall  that  is 
alleged  by  the  old  writers  to  have  surrounded  the  haso 
of  the  pyramid,  hut  of  which  I  could  discern  no  traces. 

"  The  stones  forming  parts  of  the  conical  remains, 
have  evidently  been  shaped  by  the  hand  of  art,  and  are 
often  found  covered  with  an  exterior  coat  of  mortar, 
upecimeus  of  which  I  took  away  with  me,  as  sharp  and 
perfect  as  the  day  it  was  laid  on  centuries  ago. 

"\ear  the  base  of  the  last  terrace,  on  which  tho 
j)yrj,mid  rises,  the  enplanade  is  covered  with  trees  and 
tangled  vines,  but  the  body  of  the  platform  is  cultivated 
as  a  corn-field.  We  found  tho  Indian  owner  at  work 
in  it,  and  were  supplied  by  him  with  the  long-desired 
comfort  of  a  gourd  of  water.  lie  then  pointed  out  to 
us  the  way  to  the  summit  of  the  terrace  through  tho 
thick  brambles ;  and  rearing  our  horses  up  the  crumb- 
ling stones  of  the  wall,  we  stood  before  tho  ruins  of  this 
interesting  pyramid,  the  remains  of  which,  left  by  the 
neighbouring  planters  after  they  had  borne  away 
enough  to  build  the  walls  of  their  haciendas,  now  lio 
buried  in  a  grove  of  palmettoos,  bananas,  and  forost- 
tiees,  apparently  tlie  growth  of  many  hundred  years. 

"  Indeeil,  this  pyramid  seems  to  have  been  (like  tho 
Forum  and  Colis^eum  at  Rome,)  the  quarry  for  all  tho 
builders  in  the  vicinity ;  and  Alzatc,  who  visited  it  as 
far  back  as  1777,  relates,  that  not.  viore  than  Ucenty 
years  before,  the  Jive  terraces  of  ivhich  it  consisted,  tcere 
still  perfect ;  and  that  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  upper 
pUtform  there  had  been  a  magnificent  throne  carved 
f     «  porphyry,  and  covered  with  hieroglyphics  of  tho 


800 


GREAT    CITIKS    OF    THE    WORLD. 


most  graceful  sculpture.  Soon  after  this  period,  how- 
ever, the  work  of  iloHtrisction  wjis  begun  by  a  certain 
Estrada,  and  it  ia  not  more  than  a  couple  of  years 
since  one  of  the  wealthiest  planters  of  the  neighbourhood 
ended  the  line  of  spoilers  by  carrying  off  enormous 
loads  of  the  squared  and  sculptured  materials,  to  build 
a  tank  in  a  barranca  to  bathe  hia  cattle  !  All  that  now 
remains  of  the  five  stories,  terraces,  or  bodies  of  the 
pyramid,  are  portions  of  the  firsts  the  whole  of  which 
is  of  dressed  porphyritic  rock,  covered  with  singular 
figures  and  hieroglyphics  executed  in  a  skilful  manner. 
The  engraving  on  page  296  presents  a  general  view  of 
the  ruins  as  seen  from  the  westward. 

"The  basement  is  a  rectangular  building,  and  its 
dimensions  on  the  northern  front,  measured  above  the 
plinth^  are  sixty-f^ur  feet  in  length,  by  fifty  eight  in 
depth  on  the  western  front.  The  height  between  the 
plinth  and  frieze  is  nearly  ten  feet ;  the  breadth  of  the 
frieze  is  three  feet  and  a  half,  and  of  the  cornice  one 
foot  and  five  inches.  I  placed  my  compass  on  the  wall, 
and  found  the  lines  of  the  edifice  to  conespond  exactly 
Avith  the  cardinal  points." 

Of  the  ruins  of  the  pyramid  of  Teotihuacan,  Mr. 
Mayer  g'ves  the  following  account : 

"  On  leaving  the  town  our  road  lay  in  a  north- 
easterly direction,  through  a  number  of  picturesque 
villages  buried  in  foliage,  and  fenced  with  the  organ 
cactus,  lifting  its  tall  pillar-like  stems  to  a  height  of 
twenty  feet  above  the  ground.  The  country  was  roll- 
ing, and  we  passed  over  several  elevations  and  a  stream 
or  two  before  we  turned  suddenly  to  the  right,  and  saw 
the  village  of  St.  Juan  with  an  extensive  level  beyond 


♦i^-^r 


ANCIENT    CITIES    OF   AMERICA. 


303 


it,  bordered  ou  all  sides  by  mountains,  except  towards 
the  east,  where  a  deep  depression  in  the  chain  leads 
into  the  plains  of  Otumba.  In  the  centre  of  this  lev:! 
are  the  pyramids  of  Teotihuacan,  and  the  annexed 
engraving  will  give  you  an  accurate  idea  of  their 
position,  and  the  present  appearance  from  this  point." 

Mr.  Mayer's  account  of  the  aqueduct  of  Tezcosingo, 
is  very  interesting.     He  says : 

"  Directly  at  the  foot  of  the  eminence  on  which  we 
rested,  there  was  an  extensive  Indian  remain.  By  an 
able  system  of  engineering,  the  water  had  been  brought 
by  the  ancients  from  the  eastern  sierra,  for  a  distance, 
probably,  of  three  leagues,  by  conduits  across  barrancas 
and  along  the  sides  of  the  hill ;  and  the  ruin  below  us 
was  that  of  one  of  these  aqueducts,  across  a  ravine 
about  a  hundred  feet  in  elevation. 

"  You  will  find  a  view  of  this  work  in  the  annexed 
picture.  The  base  of  the  two  conduit  pipes  is  raised 
to  the  required  level  on  stones  and  masonry,  and  the 
canals  for  the  water  are  made  of  an  exceeding  hard 
cement,  of  mortar  and  fragments  of  pounded  brick. 
Although,  of  course,  long  since  abandoned,  it  is,  in 
many  places,  as  perfect  as  on  the  d  ly  of  its  completion  ; 
and  perhaps  as  good  a  work,  for  all  the  necessary  pur- 
poses, as  could  be  formed  at  the  present  day  by  the 
most  expert  engineers.  '     • 

"The  view  over  the  valley,  to  the  north,  towards  the 
pyramids  of  Teotihuacan,  and  across  the  lake  tu 
Mexico  was  uninterrupted ;  and  the  city  (beyond  the 
waters,  surrounded  by  a  mirage  on  the  distant  plain) 
seemed  placed  again,  as  it  was  three  hundred  years  ago, 
in  the  midst  of  a  beautiful  lake.  -   *      i-wi  *', 


804 


cTxEAT  cTTirs  oy  inr.  wonrn. 


"After  v.-(>  i»atl  fiuisluvl  our  mi«l.  wo  gnve  ;;  Kinall 
componsatii>»i  to  tiio  Indirwi.  and  rtsumod  otir  vonte 
tnwnnls  Te/cosingo.  Tlio  r«>n(l,  for  ji  long  distance, 
liy  ovtr  juj  extensive  tablo-lnnd,  >vith  :t  deep  valley 
Ti.)rt'n  !ind  sor.fli,  (illed  on  l.<»th  ^'ides  with  hacieiidns, 
V  illa;;:i;es,  ajxl  )>!jnitiitif)ns.  Wc  eiosised  the  slioulder  of 
a  mountain,  and  dcHcended  half  wav  a  i-econd  rnviru-, 
n-Mr  the  eisihth  of  a  mile  in  extent,  nntll  we  struck  Tue 
level  of  unotlier  ancient  nijueduer.  that  led  llu;  w.sti-v.^ 
directly  to  the  hill  of  Tezoosin^o.  This  elevation  waa 
l.t;oader,  lirmcr,  and  even  in  better  preservation  tium  the 
first.     It  may  be  crossed  on  horseback — three  abreast. 

''  As  soon  as  we  struck  the  C(debrjited  hill,  we  be^'.'jj) 
ascending  rapidly  by  an  almost  iniperceptible  ct'.tie- 
path,  among  gigantic  <^nc'ti.  whose  thorns  tore  our  skiti; 
as  we  hrushe<l  liy  them.  Over  the  whole  snrfact:  iIkit 
were  remains  of  a  spiral  road  cut  from  the  living  re*!:, 
fitrewn  with  fragments  of  pottery,  Indian  firiowf?,  and 
broken  sacrificial  knives;  while,  occasionally,  M-e  p;js.-ied 
over  the  ruins  of  an  acjueduct  winding  round  the  bill. 
The  eminence  seems  to  have  been  converted,  fiom  jt-^ 
base  to  its  summit,  (a  di^5t«nce  of  perhap!$  five  hundred 
feet,)  into  a  pile  of  those  terraced  g;iidt:n?*,  so  much 
admired  bv  every  tourist  vho  fiJln  into  rur.itures  ;!i!i.iii' 
the  romantic  gro\  e'4  of  IyL>l.t  Beliu. 

The  ruins  of  Qnemada,  lying  nortli  of  the  e!:y  <.r 
Mexico,  in  the  department  cf  Zncatecjis»,  are  Vi'vy 
extensive,  and  must  be  referred  to  a  vojy  remote 
period  of  antiquity.  The  view  of  a  ])Oition  of  ihcni, 
which  we  gi^''^",  etnbraoei  the  court-yard  of  a  temple,  ns 
drasN'n  by  I\I.  oSebtl.  <J.tpt:»in  Lyon,  quoted  by  Mr.. 
Mayer,  deseiibi.'S  iliem  in  t'ae  fullawipg  terms :     ,;. 


a 

►"• . 

^\ 

CO  I 

w 


(( 


ANCIEN'T  CITIES  OF  AMERICA. 


807 


"  We  set  out,"  says  lio,  "on  our  expedition  to  tho 
Cerro  do  lo<*  Edificios,  under  the  guidance  of  an  old 
rancliero,  and  soon  arrived  at  the  foot  of  the  abrupt 
and  steep  rock  on  which  the  buiUlings  are  situated. 
Here  we  perceived  two  ruined  heaps  of  stones,- flanking 
the  entrance  to  a  causeway  ninety-three  feet  broad, 
commencing  at  four  hundred  feet  from  the  cliff. 

*'  A  space  of  about  six  acres  has  been  inclosed  by  a 
broad  wall,  of  which  the  foundations  are  still  visible, 
running  first  to  the  south  and  afterward  to  the  east. 
Off  its  south-western  angle  stands  a  high  mass  of 
stones,  which  flanks  the  causeway.  In  outward  appear- 
ance it  is  of  pyramidal  form,  owing  to  the  quantities 
of  stones  piled  against  it,  either  by  design  or  by  its 
own  ruin  ;  but  on  closer  examination  its  figure  could  be 
traced  by  the  remains  of  solid  walls,  to  have  been  a 
square  of  thirty-one  feet  by  the  same  height :  the  heap 
immediately  opposite  is  lower  and  more. scattered,  but 
in  all  probability  formerly  resembled  it.  Hence  the 
grand  causeway  runs  to  the  north-east  until  it  reaches 
the  ascent  of  a  cliff,  whioli,  as  I  have  already  observed, 
is  about  four  hundred  yards  distant.  Here  again  arc 
found  two  masses  of  ruins,  in  which  may  be  traced  tho 
same  construction  as  that  before  described ;  and  it  is 
not  improbable  that  these  two  towers  guarded  the  inner 
entrance  to  the  citadel.  In  the  centre  of  the  causeway, 
which  is  raised  about  a  foot,  and  has  its  rough  pave- 
ment uninjured,  is  a  large  heap  of  stones,  as  if  the 
remains  of  some  altar;  round  which  we  could  trace 
notwithstanding  the  accumulation  of  earth  and  vegeta- 
tion, a  paved  border  of  flat  slabs  arranged  in  the  figure 
of  a  six-rayed  star. 


I  ■: 


^ 


808 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


"  "We  did  not  enter  the  city  by  the  principal  road,  but 
led  our  horses,  with  some  diflficulty,  up  the  steep  mass 
formed  by  the  ruins  of  a  defensive  wall,  inclosing  a  quad- 
rangle two  hundred  and  forty  feet  by  two  hundred,  which 
to  the  east  is  stiy  sheltered  by  a  strong  wall  of  unhewn 
stones,  eight  feet  in  thickness,  and  eighteen  in  height. 
A  raised  terrace  of  twenty  feet  in  width,  passes  round 
the  northern  and  eastern  sides  of  this  space,  and  on  its 
south-east  corner  is  yet  standing  a  round  pillar  of 
rough  stones,  of  the  same  height  as  the  wall,  and  nine- 
teen feet  in  circumference. 

"  There  appear  to  have  been  five  other  pillars  on  the 
east,  and  four  on  the  northern  terrace;  and  as  the 
view  of  the  plain  which  lies  to  the  south  and  west  is 
hence  very  extensive,  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  the 
square  has  always  been  open  in  these  directions. 
Adjoining  to  this,  we  entered  by  the  eastern  side  to 
another  quadrangle,  entirely  surrounded  by  perfect 
walls  of  the  same  height  and  thickness  as  the  former 
one,  and  measuring  one  hundred  and  fifty-four  feet  by 
one  hundred  and  thirty-seven.  In  this  were  yet  stand- 
ing fourteen  very  well- constructed  pillars,  of  equal 
dimensions  with  that  in  the  adjoining  inclosure,  and 
arranged,  four  in  length  and  three  in  breadth  of  the 
quadrangle,  from  which  on  every  side  they  separated  a 
space  of  twenty-three  feet  in  width :  probably  the 
pavement  of  a  portico  of  which  they  once  supported 
the  root*.  In  their  construction,  as  well  as  that  of  all 
the  walls  which  we  saw,  a  common  clay  having  straw 
mixed  with  it  has  been  used,  and  is  yet  visible  in  those 
places  which  are  sheltered  from  the  rains.  Rich  grass 
was  growing  in  the  spacious  courts  where  Aztec  mon- 


ANCIENT   CITIES   OF   AMERICA. 


809 


archs  may  once  have  feasted  ;  and  our  cattle  were  so 
delighted  with  it  that  we  left  them  to  graze  while  wu 
walked  about  three  hundred  yards  to  the  northward, 
over  a  very  Avide  parapet,  and  reached  a  perfect,  square, 
flat-topped  pyramid  of  large  unhewn  stones.  It  was 
standing  unattached  to  any  other  buildings,  at  the  foot 
of  the  eastern  brow  of  the  mountain,  which  rises  abruptly 
behind  it.  On  the  eastern  face  is  a  platform  of  twenty- 
eight  feet  in  width,  faced  by  a  parapet  wall  of  fifteen 
feet,  and  from  the  base  of  this  extends  a  second 
platform  with  a  parapet  like  the  former,  and  one 
hundred  and  eighteen  feet  wide.  These  form  the  outer 
defensive  boundary  of  the  mountain,  which  from  its  fig- 
ure has  niaterijilly  favoured  their  construction.  There 
is  every  reason  to  believe  tliat  this  eastern  face  must 
have  been  of  great  importance.  A  slightly  raised  and 
paved  causeway  of  about  twenty-five  feet  descends 
across  the  valley,  in  the  direction  of  the  rising  sun; 
and  being  continued  on  the  opposite  side  of  a  stream 
which  flows  through  it,  can  be  traced  up  the  mountains 
at  two  miles'  distance,  until  it  terminates  at  the  base 
of  an  immense  stone  edifice,  which  probably  may  also 
have  been  a  pyramid.  Although  a  stream  (Rio  del 
Partido)  runs  meandering  through  the  plain  from  the 
northward,  about  midway  between  the  two  elevated 
buildings,  I  can  scarcely  imagine  that  the  causeway 
should  have  been  formed  for  the  purpose  of  bring- 
ing water  to  the  city,  which  is  far  more  easy  of 
access  in  many  other  directions  much  nearer  to  the 
river,  but  must  have  been  constructed  for  important 
purposes  between  the  two  places  in  question ;  and  it  is 
not  improbable,  that  it  once  formed  the  street  between 


HIO 


(iUEAT    CITIES    OF   THE    WORLD. 


the  frail  huts  of  the  poorer  inhabitants.  The  base  of 
the  large  pyramid  measured  fifty  feet,  and  I  ascertained 
by  ascending  with  a  line,  that  its  height  was  precisely 
the  same.  Its  flat  top  was  covered  with  earth  and  a 
little  vegetation;  and  our  guide  asserted,  although  he 
knew  not  whence  he  received  tho  information,  that  it 
was  once  surmounted  by  a  statue.  Off  the  south-east 
corner  of  this  building,  and  at  about  fifteen  yards 
distant,  is  to  be  seen  the  edge  of  a  circle  of  stones 
about  eight  feet  in  diameter,  inclosing,  as  far  as  we 
could  judge  on  scraping  away  the  soil,  a  bowl-shaped 
pit,  in  which  the  action  of  fire  was  plainly  observable ; 
and  the  eartli,  from  whicli  we  picked  some  pieces  of 
pottery,  was  evidently  darkened  by  an  admixture  of 
soot  or  ashes.  At  the  distance  of  one  hundred  vards 
south-west  of  the  large  pyramid,  is  a  small  one,  twelve 
feet  square,  and  much  injured.  This  is  situa;od  on 
somewhat  higher  ground,  in  the  steep  part  of  the 
ascent  to  the  mountain's  brow.  On  it.s  eastern  face, 
which  is  toward  the  declivity,  tlie  heiglit  m  eighteen 
feet ;  and  apparently  there  have  been  steps  by  which 
to  descend  to  a  quadrangular  s])!ice,  having  a  broad 
terrace  round  it,  and  extending  eant  one  huiulied  feet 
by  a  width  of  fifty.  In  tlie  CLUtre  of  tliis  inclosure  is 
another  bowl-shaped  pit,  somewhat  wider  than  the  first. 
Hence  we  began  our  ascent  to  the  upper  works,  over  a 
well-buttressed  yet  ruined  wall,  built,  to  a  certain 
extent,  so  as  to  derive  advantage  from  the  natural 
abruptness  of  the  rock.  Its  height  on  the  steepest  side 
is  twenty-one  feet,  and  the  width  on  the  summit,  Avhicli 
is  level,  with  an  extensive  platform,  is  the  sumo.  Tiiis 
is  a  double  wall,  one  of  ten  feet  havin;ij  been  first  con- 


ANCIENT  CITIES  07  AMERXOA. 


Sll 


Btruoted,  and  then  covered  with  a  very  smooth  kind  of 
cement,  after  which  the  second  has  been  built  against 
it.  The  platform  (which  faces  to  the  south,  and  may 
to  a  certain  extent  bo  considered  as  a  ledge  from  the 
cliff,)  is  eighty-nine  feet  by  seventy-two;  and  on  its 
northern  centre  stand  the  ruins  of  a  square  building, 
having  within  it  an  open  space  of  ten  feet  by  eight, 
and  of  the  same  depth.  In  the  middle  of  the  quad- 
rangle is  to  be  seen  a  mound  of  stones  eight  feet  high. 
A  little  farther  on,  we  entered  by  a  broad  opening 
between  two  perfect  and  massive  walls,  to  a  square  of 
one  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  This  space  was  surrounded 
on  the  south,  east,  and  west,  by  an  elevated  terrace  of 
three  feet  by  twelve  in  breadth,  having  in  the  centre 
of  each  side  steps,  by  which  to  descend  to  the  square. 
Each  terrace  was  backed  by  a  wall  of  twenty  feet  by 
eight  or  nine.  From  the  south  are  two  broad  entrances, 
and  on  the  east  is  one  of  thirty  feet,  communicating 
with  a  perfect  inclosed  square  of  two  hundred  feet, 
while  on  the  west  is  one  small  opening,  leading  to  an 
artificitil  cave  or  dungeon. 

"  To  tlic  north  the  square  is  bounded  by  the  steep 
mountain,  and  in  the  centre  of  that  side  stands  a  pyra- 
mid with  several  ledges,  or  stages,  which  in  many 
places  are  quite  perfect.  It  is  flat-topped,  has  four 
sides,  and  measures  at  the  base  thirty-eight  by  thirty- 
live  feet,  while  in  height  it  is  nineteen.  Immediately 
behind  this,  and  on  all  that  portion  of  the  hill  M'hich 
presents  itself  to  the  square,  are  numerous  tiers  of  seats, 
cither  broken  in  the  rock  or  built  of  rough  stones. 
In  the  centre  of  the  square,  and  due  south  of  the  pyra- 
mid, is  a  small  quadrangular  building,  seven  feet  by 


{ 


812 


CHEAT   CITIES   OF   TUB   WOULD. 


:«-*• -^ 


lEMPU:  At  TOSAPAX. 


five  in  height.  The  summit  is  imperfect,  but  it  has 
unquestionably  been  an  altar;  and  from  tho  whole 
character  of  tho  space  in  whicli  it  stands,  tho  peculiar 
form  of  the  pyramid,  tlio  sm-rounding  terrace,  and  the 
seats  or  steps  on  the  mountain,  thrro  can  he  little 
doubt  that  this  h.>s  hoen  tho  ^r.iad  Hall  of  S;icri(ico  or 
Assembly,  or  nevliap"^  both.  .        , 

"The  village  of  Panantla,"  «nys  Mr.  Mayor,  "Ilea 
sixteen  leagues  from  tho  sea,  \\i\d  fiftv-two  noi-tli  from 
Vera  Cruz,  at  tho  baise  of  Iho  eto-tmi  mountiiiiis,  in 
tho  midst  of  fertile  savannahs  constaiitlv  watorcnl  by 
Btreams  from  neighbouring  lulls.  Although  it  i.s  the 
watre  of  a  country  remarkable  for  fertility,  ihe  Indian 


ANClLM  CITIKS  OF  AMERICA. 


»13 


.*f-  * 


FTKAUID  OP  PAPANTLA. 


villnge  has  scarcely  a  lohite  inhabitant,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  curate,  and  some  few  dealers,  who  come 
from  the  coast  to  trafBc  their  wares  for  the  products  of 
the  soil.  The  people  of  tho  upper  country  di^slike  to 
venture  into  the  heat  and  disease  of  the  tierra  erfJIente  : 
and,  in  turn,  its  inhabitants  dislike  an  exposure  to  the 
cliills  of  the  tierras  frias  tumpJculas.  Thus  the  region 
of  Papantlu,  two  leagues  from  the  village,  has  hitherto 

27 


:/* 


GREAT    CITIES    OF   THE   WORLD. 


remained  an  unexplored  nook,  even  at  the  short  dis- 
tance of  fifty  miles  from  the  coast ;  and  although  it 
was  alluded  to  by  Baron  Humboldt,  it  had  never  been 
correctly  drawn,  or  even  accur«tely  described  before 
the  visit  of  M.  Nebel.  The  neighbouring  Indians,  even, 
had  scarcely  seen  it,  and  considerable  local  knowledge 
was  required  to  trace  a  path  to  the  relic  through  the 
wild  and  tangled  forest. 

There  is  no  doubt,  from  the  masses  of  ruins  spread 
over  the  plain,  that  this  city  was  more  than  a  mile  and 
a  half  in  circuit.  Although  there  seems  good  reason 
to  believe  that  it  was  abandoned  by  its  builders  after 
the  conquest,  there  has  still  been  time  enough  both  for 
the  growth  of  the  forest  in  so  warm  and  prolific  a 
climate,  and  for  the  gradual  destruction  of  the  build- 
ings by  the  seasons  and  other  causes.  Indeed,  huge 
trees,  trailing  plants,  and  parasite  vines  have  struck 
their  roots  among  the  crannies  and  joints  of  the  re- 
maining pyramid,  and,  in  a  few  years  more,  will  con- 
sign even  that  remnant  to  tlie  common  fate  of  the  rest 
of  the  citv. 

"The  above  plate  presents  a  \iew  of  tlie  pj'ramid, 
(called  by  tlie  natives,  'El  T;»ji»i,'"i  sis  sern  by  Nebol 
after  he  had  cleared  it  of  trees  and  folia o:e.  It  consists 
of  seven  stories,  each  followinc:  tlie  same  aiisle  of  in- 
clination,  and  each  terminated,  as  at  Xochicalco,  by  a 
fiicze  and  cornice.  The  wlmlo  of  these  bodies  are  con- 
structed of  sand-stone,  nojitly  squared  and  joined,  and 
covered,  to  the  depth  of  thixM^  inches,  with  a  strong 
cement,  whir^h  appears,  from  the  remains  of  colour  in 
many  places,  to  have  been  entirely  pniuted.  The  pyra- 
mid measures  precisely  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet 


'*t' 


» I 


A. 


A17CIENT   CITIES   OF   AMERICA. 


816 


miMIB  OV  UaAlfTU. 


on  every  side,  and  is  ascended,  in  front,  by  a  stairway 
of  fifty-seven  steps,  divided  in  three  places  ))y  small 
box-like  recesses  or  niclies,  two  feet  in  depth,  similar 
to  those  which  are  scon  porforfiting  the  frieze  of  each 
of  the  bodic.-'.  This  stairway  toiminates  at  the  top  of 
the  sixth  story,  the  seventh  appearing  (although  in 
ruins)  to  have  been  unlike  the  rest,  and  hollow.  Here, 
most  probably,  was  the  shrine  of  the  divinity  and  the 
place  of  sacrifice." 

With  the  following  account  of  Misantla,  we  close  our 
extracts  frmn  the  entertaining  and  instructive  work  of 
Mr.  Mayer. 


816 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WOBLU. 


"  Passing  by  the  Island  of  Sacrificios,  I  will  now  de- 
scribe the  ruins  that  were  discovered  as  recently  as 
1835,  adjacent  to  Misantla,  near  the  city  of  Jalapa, 
and  not  very  far  from  the  direct  road  to  the  capital. 

" The  wo;k  from  whicli  I  extract  uiy  information  is 
the  Mosaico  Mexicano,  to  which  it  was  contributed,  I 
believe,  by  Don  Isidrio  Gondra. 

"  On  a  lofty  ridge  of  mountains  in  the  canton  of 
Misantla,  there  is  a  hill  called  Estillero,  (distant  some 
thirty  miles  from  Jalapa,)  near  which  lies  a  mountain 
covered  with  a  narrow  strip  of  table-land,  perfectly 
jsolated  from  the  surrounding  country  by  steep  rocks 
and  inaccessible  barrancas.  Beyond  these  dells  and 
precipices  there  is  a  lofty  wall  of  hills,  fvom  the  sum- 
mit of  one  of  which  the  sea  is  distinctly  visible  in  the 
direction  of  Nautly.  The  only  parts  of  the  country  by 
which  this  plain  is  accessible,  are  the  slopes  of  Estillero : 
on  all  other  sides  the  solitary  mountain  seems  to  have 
been  separated  from  the  neighbouring  land  by  some 
violent  earthquake  that  sunk  the  earth  to  an  unfathomed 
depth. 

"  On  this  secluded  and  isolated  eminence,  are  situated 
the  remains  of  an  ancient  city.  As  yon  approach  the 
plain  by  the  slopes  of  Estillero,  a  broken  wall  of  large 
stones,  united  by  a  weak  cement,  is  first  observable. 
This  appears  to  have  served  for  protection  to  a  circular 
plaza,  in  the  centre  of  which  is  a  pyramid  eighty  feet 
high,  forty-nine  feet  front,  and  forty-two  in  depth. 

"  The  account  does  not  state  positively  whether  this 
edifice  is  constructed  of  stone,  but  it  is  reasonable  to 
suppose  that  it  is  so,  from  the  wall  found  around  the 
plaza,  and  the  remains  which  will  be  subsec^ently  men 


;  \ 


ANCIENT  riTIF.S  OF  AMERICA. 


317 


tioned.  It  is  divided  into  three  stories,  or  rather, 
there  are  three  still  remaining.  On  the  broadest  front 
a  stairway  leads  to  the  second  body,  which,  in  turn 
is  ascended  at  the  side,  while  the  top  of  the  third  is 
reached  by  steps  cut  in  the  corner  edge  of  the  pyramid. 
In  front  of  the  teocalU^  on  the  second  stor}"",  are  two 
pilastral  columns,  which  may  have  formed  part  of  a 
staircase ;  but  this  portion  of  the  pyramid,  and  espe- 
cially the  last  body,  is  so  overgrown  with  trees  that  its 
outline  is  considerably  injured.  On  the  very  top, 
'driving  it.s  roots  into  the  spot  that  was  doubtless  for- 
merly the  holy  place  of  the  temple,)  there  is  a  gigantic 
tree,  which  from  its  imraense  size  in  this  comparatively 
high  and  temperate  region,  denotes  a  long  period  since 
the  abandonment  of  the  altar  where  it  grows. 

"  At  the  periphery  of  the  circular  plaza  around  this 
pyramid,  commence  the  remains  of  a  town,  extending 
northerly  in  a  straight  line  for  near  a  league.  Im- 
mense square  blocks  of  stone  buildings,  separated  by 
streets  at  tlie  distance  of  about  throe  hundred  yards 
from  each  other,  mark  the  sites  of  the  ancient  habita- 
tions, fronting  upon  four  parallel  highway.^.  In  some 
of  the  houses  the  walls  arc  still  throe  or  "  »ur  feet  high, 
but  of  moat  of  them  there  is  nothing  but  :ui  outliuo 
tracerv  of  the  mere  foundations.  On  the  sonth,  there 
are  the  remains  of  a  long  and  narri>\v  wall,  whicii  de- 
fended the  city  in  that  quarter. 

"North  of  the  town  there  is  a  tua^uc  of  liuul,  ocon- 
pied  in  the  centre  by  a  mound,  or  ccmotei'V.  On  the 
left  slope  of  the  hill  Dy  which  the  ruins  are  reached, 
there  are,  also,  twelve  circular  sepulchres,  two  yards 
and  a  half  in  diameter,  luul  us  many  high;   tiie  walls 


11  III 


818 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


are  all  of  neatly  cut  stone,  but  the  cement  with  which 
they  were  once  joined  has  almost  entirely  disappeared. 
In  these  sepulchres  several  bodies  were  found,  parts  of 
which  were  in  tolerable  preservation. 

"  Two  stones,  a  foot  and  a  half  long  by  half  a  foot 
wide,  were  discovered,  bearing  hieroglyphics,  which  are 
described,  in  general  terms,  as  ^resembling  the  usual 
hieroglyphics  of  the  Indians.'  Another  figure  was 
found,  representing  a  man  standing ;  and  another,  cut 
out  of  a  firm  but  porous  stone,  which  was  intended  to 
portray  a  person  sitting  cross-legged,  with  the  arms 
also  crossed,  resting  on  his  knees.  This,  however,  was 
executed  in  a  very  inferior  style.  Near  it,  were  dis- 
covered many  domestic  utensils,  which  were  carried  to ' 
Vera  Cruz,  whence  they  have  been  dispersed,  perhaps 
to  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe. 

"  It  is  thus,  in  the  neglect  of  all  antiquities  in  Mexico, 
in  the  midst  of  her  political  distractions  and  bloody 
revolutions,  that  every  vestige  of  her  former  history 
will  gradually  pass  to  foreign  countries,  instead  of 
enriching  the  cabinets  of  her  university,  and  stimulating 
the  inquisitiveness  of  her  scientific  students." 

I  will,  before  passing  to  the  subject  of  the  Mississippi 
and  Ohio  ruins,  merely  note  the  general  resemblance 
of  the  ruins  with  those  engraved  of  the  restoration  of 
the  Persepolitan  ruins.  That  the  Vedaic  religion,  if  I 
may  so  express  myself,  was  that  followed  by  the  Toltecs, 
I  have  little  doubt. 

But  decidedly  the  most  remarkable  circumstances 
connected  with  the  buildings  of  America,  is  the  simi- 
larity between  their  teo-callia  and  the  pyramid  of  Bel 
or  Babel,  as  remarked  by  Dr.  Lang,  and  by  others 


man. 


» i 


ANCIENT   CITIES    OF    AMERICA. 


819 


before  and  after  liim.  To  Dr.  Lang's  work  I  would 
refer  any  one  anxious  to  get  at  the  facts  and  data  on 
which  his  arguments  are  founded. 

We  now  leave  the  ruins  of  Yucatan,  and  flying 
rapidly  over  the  mysterious  pyramids  of  Mexico,  we 
leave  the  sultry  arid  plains,  and  the  dark  cool  forests 
behind,  and  looking  round,  see  before  us  another  and 
a  far  different  locality.  I  shall  introduce  my  account 
of  the  ruins  of  the  Western  States  of  Americj.  by  some 
observations  contained  in  a  letter  from  Mr.  Brackenridge 
to  Jefferson : — "  Throughout  what  is  denominated  by 
Volney  the  valley  of  the  Mississippi,"  says  that  gentle- 
man, "  there  exists  the  traces  of  a  population  far  be- 
yond what  this  extensive  and  fertile  portion  of  the 
continent  is  supposed  to  have  possessed ;  greater,  per- 
haps, than  could  be  supported,  by  the  present  white 
inhabitants,  even  with  the  careful  agriculture  practised 
in  the  most  populous  part  of  Europe.  The  reason  of 
this  is  to  be  found  in  the  peculiar  manners  in  the  inha- 
bitants by  whom  it  was  formerly  occupied ;  like  those 
of  Mexico,  their  agriculture  had  for  its  only  object 
their  own  sustenance ;  no  surplus  was  demanded  for 
commerce  with  foreign  nations,  and  no  part  of  the  soil 
susceptible  of  culture  was  devoted  to  pasturage,  yet 
extensive  forests  filled  with  wild  animals  would  still 
remain.  .  .  .  We  must  in  this  way  account  for 
the  astonishing  population  of  the  vale  of  Mexico,  when 
first  known  to  the  Spaniards,  perhaps  equal  to  any  dis- 
trict of  the  same  extent  of  climate.  The  astonishing 
population  of  Owhyhee  and  Otahcite  must  be  accounted 
for  in  the  same  way.  ...  In  the  valley  of  the 
Mississippi,  there  are  discovered  the  tr:ii*cs  of  two  dis- 


ill' 


320 


Ai 


r.nr.AT  citif.s  of  the  world. 


I  I 


tinct  rnccs  of  p*?oplc,  or  peiind?;  of  popnlatif  n ;  nno 
much  mo'o  .in<jiont  than  thi-  other.  The  tnicrs  of  tho 
last  are  the  most  nwniero'is,  hut  mavk  a  p'lpuiation  less 
advanced  in  civilization  ;  in  fact,  thoy  lieiong  to  tlm 
same  race  that  existed  in  the  connlrv'  when  tho  Fronelv 
and  English  effected  their  settlements  on  tins  part  (S 
the  continent ;  hut  since  the  intercourse  of  these  people 
with  the  whites,  nn<l  their  astonishing  diminution  in 
numbers,  many  of  their  customs  have  fallen  into  disuse. 
.  .  .  .  The  appearunces  of  fortifications,  of  which 
so  much  has  been  said,  and  which  have  been  attributed 
to  a  colony  of  Welch,  are  nothing  more  than  the  traces 
of  palisadoed  towns  or  villages.  .  .  .  Wo  might 
be  warranted  in  considering  the  mounds  of  the  Missis- 
sippi morT  ancient  than  the  Tco-calli ;  a  fact  worthy 
of  notice,  although  the  stages  are  still  plain  in  some  of 
them,  the  gradations  or  steps  have  disappeared,  in  tho 
course  of  time,  the  rains  have  washed  them  off." 

Mr.  Brn.ckenridge  evidently  suspects  a  Polynesiiin 
origin  for  the  constructors  of  these  mounds,  but  his 
idea  is  not  expressed.  He  considers  the  Tohecs  to 
have  emigrated  from  this  district. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  and  extensive  works  of 
defences  constructed  bv  the  ancient  Auievican  nibt s, 
is  that  on  the  banks  of  the  Little  Miami  river,  jiho.it 
thirty -five  miles  to  tlie  north-east  of  Cijicinnati,  in 
Warren  County,  Oliio,  caijctl  Fort-Ancient.  It  ock'h- 
pies*  a  terrace  on  th.e  left  bank  of  the  ?>[iatjii,  and  is 
situated  '2W  feet  above  the  !<  vd  of  tin-  ri\cv.  'ph,. 
position   is   naturally  strong,    being   (hfended    l.y   two 


*Ti)i!'   !■<  i'o;;i.;    i'i   iiiir'iij-f"!    fro  :i    (I),.'    ,>'  I  iv.:i;,;,    i;i     V.f    V,<pci3   6i    iht 


AKCIENT  CTTIES   OV   AMEKICA. 


821 


ravines,  which,  commencing  on  the  east  side  of  th« 
peninsula,  near  to  each  other,  diverge  and  sweep  round) 
entering  the  Miami,  one  uhove  and  the  other  below  the 
work.  On  tlje  west,  the  >Tiami,  with  its  precipitous 
bank  of  200  feet,  is  itself  the  defence.  On  the  very 
verge  of  the  ravines,  totally  surrounding  the  peninsula^ 
nn  embankment  of  great  height  and  strength  has  been 
raised;  and  such  an  attention  was  paid  to  the  mean- 
derings  of  its  course,  that  Professor  Locke  required  196 
stations  to  complete  the  survey  he  made.  The  whole 
circuit  of  the  work  was  about  four  miles.  The  bank 
of  earth  is  in  many  places  twenty  feet  high,  and  is 
composed  of  a  tough,  alluvial  clay,  without  stone. 
There  is  no  continuous  ditch,  whence  the  earth  was  dug, 
around  the  work ;  but  pits,  still  to  be  distinguished, 
were  the  source  whence  the  earth  was  obtained.  Pro- 
fessor Locke  himself  concludes: — 

"  Finally,  I  am  astonished  to  see  a  work  simply  of 
earth,  after  braving  the  storms  of  thousands  of  years, 
still  so  entire  and  well  marked.  Several  circumstances 
have  contributed  to  this.  The  clay  of  which  it  is  built 
is  not  easily  penetrated  by  water.  The  bank  has  been, 
and  is  still,  mostly  covered  by  a  forest  of  beech-trees, 
which  have  woven  a  strong  web  of  their  roots  over  its 
steep  sides ;  and  a  fine  bed  of  moss  {Pohjtrichum) 
serves  still  further  to  afford  protection." 

There  are  more  than  seventy  gateways  or  interrup- 
tions in  the  embankments,  at  irregular  intervals  along 
the  line.  They  were  probably,  as  supposed  by  Messrs. 
Squier  and  Davis,*  ''places  once  occupied  by  block- 
houses or  bastions  composed  of  timber,  and  which  have 

*  Aadaat  Monomratt  of  tha  MiMitsIppi  Vallaj^  fi.  2(L 


822 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


long  since  decayed."  This  fort  evidently  shows  ^rcat 
military  skill,  and  might  indeed,  if  occasion  were  to 
require  it,  bo  again  used  for  its  original  purpose.  The 
work  appears  still  more  remarkable  when  we  consider 
that  it  was  constructed  without  any  other  aid  than 
human  hands. 

More  curious  than  the  foregoing  earthwork  are  the 
mounds  in  Dade  County,  Wisconsin,  about  seven  miles 
to  the  east  of  the  Blue  Mounds.  They  are  situated  on 
the  great  Indian  trail  or  war-path,  between  Lake 
Michigan  and  the  Mississippi,  and  are  six  effigies  of 
quadrupeds,  six  parallelograms,  one  circular  tumulus, 
one  small  circle,  and  one  effigy  of  the  human  figure, 
with  the  head  towards  the  west,  and  unnaturally  long 
arms.  These  tumuli  extend  about  half  a  mile  along 
the  trail.  What  the  animals  represented  in  effigy  are, 
it  is  not  easy  to  determine.  Some  have  supposed  the 
buffalo  to  be  the  animal  intended;  "but,"  as  Squier* 
very  justly  remarks,  "  the  absence  of  a  tail,  and  of  the 
characteristic  hump  of  that  animal,  would  seem  to 
point  to  a  different  conclusion ;"  and,  besides,  I  may 
be  permitted  to  ask,  why  should  the  buffalo  be  the  ani- 
mal especially  chosen  ?  It  is  to  be  remarked  that  these 
effigies  have  their  head  turned  to  the  west,  which  cir- 
cumstance, together  with  the  position  of  the  head  of  the 
human  tumulus,  seems  to  me  to  signify  that  the  tribes 
who  constructed  these  remarkable  mounds,  commemo- 
rated thereby  some  favourite  and  common  animal  of 
their  former  country,  which  lay  towards  the  west.  In 
examining  ancient  ruins  like  those  now  before  us,  we 
must  measure  the  reigning  idea  by  an  ancient  standard ; 

r:  •  4iMieat  Mooament«  of  tb«  MUtistippi  Vallej,  p.  128. 


ANCIENT    CITIES    OF   AMERICA. 


828 


and  the  closer  we  get  to  such  str^ndarcl,  the  more  do  we 
approach  to  the  truth.  In  speaking  of  these  traces  of 
a  nation  sleeping  now  for  ever  the  death-sleep  of  time, 
we  must  approach  as  nearly  as  possible  to  the  psycho- 
logical conception  of  them,  and  take  into  consideration 
the  fondness  the  ancients  had  for  mysticism.  I  may 
mention,  likewise,  that  in  the  north-western  part  of  the 
Ilindo-Chincso  countries,  similar  circular  and  oblong 
tumuli  are  to  be  found,  and,  if  I  recollect  right,  one  in 
the  form  of  an  animal.  It  has  been  supposed,  too,  to 
be  the  bear  that  the  Indians  thus  honoured;  but,  though 
I  am  unable  to  prove  what  the  animal  was,  this  solution 
of  the  problem  does  not  satisfy  me. 

"  The  figures  seem,"  S4ys  Squier,  "to  be  most  preva- 
lent ;  and,  though  preserving  about  the  same  relative 
proportions,  vary  in  size  from  90  to  120  feet.  In 
many  other  places,  as  at  this  point,  they  occur  in 
ranges,  one  after  the  other  at  irregular  intervals.  In 
the  midst  of  this  group  is  the  representation  of  a  human 
figure,  placed  with  its  head  towards  the  west,  and  hav- 
ing its  arms  and  legs  extended.  Its  length  is  125  feet, 
and  it  is  140  feet  from  the  extremity  of  one  arm  to 
that  of  the  other.  The  body  is  thirty  feet  in  breadth, 
the  head  twenty-five  feet  in  diameter,  and  its  elevation 
considerably  greater  than  that  of  most  of  the  others, 
being  not  much  less  than  six  feet.  The  human  figure 
is  not  uncommon  among  the  effigies,  and  is  always 
characterized  by  the  extraordinary  and  unnatural  length 
of  its  arras." 

Ten  miles  west  of  Madison,  in  the  same  county  Dade, 
Wisconsin,  are  other  works  of  a  similar  nature:  but 
the  animals  represented  are  evidently  not  the  same, 


324 


GKEAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


as  they  have  long  and  heavy  tails.  One  of  the  two 
effigies  has  also  a  pair  of  horns.  The  Indian  war-trail, 
now  the  military  road  to  Madison,  passes  between  the 
mounds. 

In  other  places,  birds  and  insects  are  represented  on 
the  same  gigantic  scale.  The  utterly  infantine  manner 
in  which  these  works  are  built  up  render  it  impof^sible 
to  offer  any  conjecture  as  to  what  they  were  really  in- 
tended to  represent,  and  for  what  uses  they  were  de- 
signed, except,  indeed,  that  they  might  have  been 
religious  monuments.* 

I  have  been  led  to  enlarge  on  these  curious  remains, 
from  theii*  being  so  little  known  and  so  interesting,  as 
they  will  be  felt  when  once  brought  under  the  notice 
of  the  public  :  I  will  but  briefly  mention  the  sacrificial 
mounds  and  altars  of  the  same  people  in  the  valley. 

"A  simple  heap  of  earth  or  stones,"  says  Squier, 
"seems  to  have  been  the  first  monument  which  sug- 
gested itself  to  man ;  the  pyramid,  the  arch,  and  the 
obelisk,  are  evidences  of  a  more  advanced  state.  But 
rude  as  arc  these  primitive  memorials,  they  have  been 
but  little  impaired  by  time,  while  other  more  imposing 
structures  have  sunk  into  shapeless  ruins.  When  co- 
vered with  forests,  and  their  surfaces  interlaced  with  the 
roots  of  trees  and  bushes,  or  when  protected  by  turf, 
the  humble  mound  bids  defiance  to  the  elements  which 
throw  down  the  temple,  and  crumble  the  marble  into 
dust.  We  therefore  find  them,  little  changed  from 
their  original  proportions,  side  by  side  with  the  ruins 
of  those  proud  edifices  which  mark  the  advanced,  as 
the  former  do  the  primitive,  state  of  the  people  who 
built  them." 


ANCIENT  CITIES  OP  AMERICA. 


825 


Indeed,  as  Mr.  Squier  goes  on  to  remark,  these  rude 
mounds  are  found  in  India,  Siberia,  and  Scandinavia ; 
by  the  shores  of  the  Bosphorus  and  the  Mediterranean, 
and  in  Britain.  In  America,  these  marks  of  a  primi< 
tive  state  extends  from  the  northern  lakes  through  the 
valley  of  the  Mississippi,  and  even  to  the  south  of  the 
continent  of  Mexico,  Peru,  and  Brazil,  to  the  La  Plate 
and  Cape  Horn. 

Description  of  these  relics  of  the  Mississippi  races  is 
almost  unnecessary,  as  they  so  closely  resemble  our 
British  cairns  and  barrows,  being  only  on  a  much 
larger  scale. 

I  cannot,  however,  before  closing  this  article,  omit 
to  notice  some  points  connected  with  the  religion  of  the 
semi-civilizcu  races  in  America,  referring  the  reader  to 
Prescott  for  more  diffused  accounts.  I  stated,  at  the 
coraraenceuient  of  this  article,  that  the  Mosaic  account 
of  the  Creation  found  a  full  parallel  in  the  accounts  of 
the  same  event  in  the  Mexican  symbolical  papyri ;  but 
more  fully  and  strangely  did  they  resemble  the  He- 
brews in  their  institutions.  I  am  far  more  inclined  to 
see  a  parallel,  however,  with  Polynesian  customs  in 
some  of  these,  than  witli  Jewisli.  Some  salient  points 
of  coincidence  may  be  interesting  to  the  reader. 

The  most  reasonable  course  is  to  foUoAv  the  course 
of  tradition  from  the  creation  downward.  And,  first, 
of  the  names  and  attributes  of  the  Creator. 

*■''  Xiuletl,  in  the  Mexican  language,"  says  the  com 
mentator  on  the  Antiquities  of  Mexico,  "  signifies  blue, 
and  hence  was  a  name  which  the  Mexicans  gave  to 
heaven,  from  which  Xiuleticutli  is  derived,  an  epithet 
signifying  the  God  of  Heaven^  Avhich  they  bestowed 

29 


W 


826 


GREAT   CITIKS   OF  TUB   WORLD. 


upon  Tezcatlipoca  or  TonacateuctUy  who  was  painted 
with  a  crown  as  Lord  of  all,  as  the  interpreter  of  the 
Codex  Tellercano-Remensis  aflSrms ;  to  whom  they  as- 
signed the  first  and  last  place  in  the  calendar,  emphati- 
callj  styling  him  the  God  of  Fire.  Xiuleticutli  may 
bear  the  other  interpretation  of  the  God  of  Ages,  the 
Everlasting  One,  which,  connected  with  the  Mexican 
notion  of  fire  being  the  element  more  peculiarly  sacred 
to  Him,  recalls  to  our  recollection  the  ninth  and  tenth 
verses  of  the  seventh  chapter  of  Daniel's  description 
of  the  vision  of  the  Ancient  of  Days,  from  'before 
whom  issued  a  fiery  stream,  and  whose  throne  was  like 
the  fiery  flame."  ' 

This  Tonacateuctii,  the  supreme  God,  resided  in  the 
garden  of  Tonaquatatitlan.  He  was  the  father  of 
Quetzalcoatl,  and  was  surnamed  Oinetecutli  (Most 
High).  Quetzalcoatl  was  the  Son  of  God  by  the  virgin 
of  Tula,  Chimelman,  by  Ills  breath  or  will.  "His  in- 
carnation," says  Humboldt,  "existed  from  eternity, 
and  that  He  had  been  the  creator  of  both  the  world 
and  man ;  that  he  had  descended  to  reform  the  world 
by  endurance,  and  being  king  of  Tuln,  was  crucified  for 
the  sins  of  mankind,  &c.,  as  is  plainly  declared  in  the 
tradition  of  Yucatan,  and  mysteriously  represented  in 
the  Mexican  paintings." 

,  With  the  tree  of  Scandinavia,  too,  Yggdrasill  (or 
that  of  Eden),  they  were  acquainted,  and  it  seems  to 
have  held  no  mean  place  in  their  mythology.  In 
Chiapa,  we  learn  from  Garcia,  the  name  of  the  Father 
is  leona;  of  the  Son,  Vacah  ;  and  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
JEa-Muach.  -    -^ 

Of  Eve,  whom  they  called  Yex-nextli,  they  seem  to 


AXCIEN'T  CITIES  OF  AMERICA. 


827 


have  had  some  tradition,  Itiit  tho  npple  of  GencBis  is 
convertc'l  here  into  roses  (callod  clsowhore  Fruit  of  the 
Trco).  Slio  is  roproMCTiti'd  by  Sahjij^iin  to  liavo  had 
twins,  a  son  und  d.iuj.'htor,  (/iiin  an<l  Oalmnna;  and 
afterwards  she  ajjain  boro  twins,  Abel  and  his  sister 
Delborah ;  slie  obtaine<l  the  name  of  eerpcnt-woinun 
(Chuacohiiat).  The  reb(dlion  of  tlic  spirits  against  the 
Alnii;;hty  also  nieors  with  a  parallel  in  Anahuacan 
legends  of  the  war  in  Heaven,  and  the  fall  of  Zoutmo- 
qnen  and  the  other  rebels.  The  deluge  and  the  ark 
are  also  alhided  t(»  in  the  Mexican  MSS.  It  was  rejno- 
sented  as  b«iug  ujade  of  fir  wood,  under  the  direction 
of  Palccatli,  or  Cipafjuctona,  who  invented  wine ;  Xclua, 
one  of  his  desccndatits,  aided  in  the  construction  of  a 
high  tower,  destroye<l  by  Tonacatecutli,  who  confounded 
their  binguage  at  the  same  period. 

Sucli  are  a  few  of  the  coincidences  which  the  in- 
genuity of  comnieutators  and  enthusiasm  of  would-be 
di."*cuverers  liave  elicited  from  the  Mexican  paintings. 
l>uf(m  this  subject  all  speculation  is  unsatisfactory  and 
bewiMering.  ^Vhether  the  judgment  of  these  ingenious 
men  was  overruled  by  their  imagination,  or  whether  the 
paintings  really  represent  some  episodes  of  the  Mosaical 
history,  it  is  not  for  me  to  pronounce.  I  would  merely 
suggest  to  the  students  of  Mexican  liistory  a  careful 
examination  of  tlie  Codex  Mendoza,  the  on]y  existing 
key  to  the  political  history,  economv,  and  social  life  nf 
the  country,  under  the  dynasty  of  the  Aztec  kings. 
Any  attempt  to  unravel  the  other  paintings,  I  would 
enforce,  but  very  modestly,  upon  the  reader  as  being 
utterly  absurd  and,  as  I  just  now  said,  bewildering. 
Of  the  Toltecs,  though  they  are  more  ancient,  it  is  mora 


828 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


satisfactory  to  speak,  and  the  concurrent  evidence  of 
historical,  physical,  zoological,  physiological,  social,  and 
architectural  investigations,  points  to  their  race  heing 
the  Malayan  or  Polynesian.  To  that  race  are  the 
Mexicans  and  Peruvians  indebted  for  the  arts  of  peace, 
and  for  the  amenities  of  life,  which  they  enjoyed. 

Our  limits  have  not  permitted  us  to  notice  the  ancient 
cities  of  Peru.  The  cut  below  is  a  specimen  of  their 
sacred  architecture  in  the  times  of  the  Incas. 


utouHV  mvTUR  sniiu. 


ir 


THE  ACROPOUS. 


ATHENS. 


0  write  on  this  cherished  scene  of 
art  and  nature,  to  attempt  to  add 
one  iota  to  the  knowledge  accumu- 
hited  in  countless  volumes  of  history 
and  criticism,  would  be  a  presump- 
tuous adventure  in  a  series  of  brief 
sketches.  The  fact  is,  that  upon 
many  other  cities  it  is  difficult  to 
write  a  long  article  ;  on  Athens,  it 
is  next  to  impossible  to  pen  a  short 
one.  Surrounded  with  the  works  of  her  greatest  poets, 
orators,  philosophers,  and  historians  ;  with  the  originals, 
or  the  copies  of  her  sublimest  works  of  art — mot  on 
all  sides,  even  in  oar  own  public  buildings,  with  the 
imitation  or  realization  cf  those  rules  of  Athenian 
architecture,  which  have  held  an  empire  over  art,  of 
which  nothing  seems  likely  to  dispossess  them ;  with  a 
mass  of  ideas,  in  which  one  art  struggles  with  another 
tc  ^  ""veak  our  attention  ;  in  short,  with  overwhelming 

(831) 


882 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


materials  that  force  themselves  upon  our  imagination, 
and  almost  direct  our  pen  to  their  'description,  it  is 
more  than  difficult  to  give  a  slight,  **  darklj,  as  in  a 
glass,  visible,'*  sketch  of  the  wondrous  city  of  Pallas. 

"  There  exists  not,"  says  Wordsworth,  "  a  corner 
ir.  the  civilized  world,  which  is  not,  as  it  were,  breathed 
on  by  the  air  of  Attica.  Its  influence  is  felt  in  the 
thoughts,  and  shows  itself  in  the  speech  of  men  ;  and 
it  will  never  eea.se  to  do  so.  It  is  not  enough  to  say 
that  it  lives  ir.  the  inspiratfons  of  the  poet,  in  the 
eloquence  of  tiie  orator,  and  in  the  speculations  of  tlie 
philosopher.  Besides  this,  it  exhibits  itself  in  visible 
shapes ;  it  is  the  soul  which  animates  and  informs  the 
most  beautiful  creations  of  art.  The  works  of  the 
aichitect  and  of  the  sculptor,  in  every  quarter  of  the 
globe,  speak  of  Attica.  Of  Attica,  the  galleries  of 
princes  and  nations  are  full.  Of  Attica,  the  temples 
and  palaces,  and  libraries  and  council-rooms  of  capital 
cities,  give  sensible  witness,  and  will  do  for  ever. 

"  But  above  all,  it  is  due  to  the  intellectual  results 
produced  by  the  inhabitants  of  this  small  canton  of 
Europe,  that  the  language  in  which  they  spoke  and 
in  which  they  wrote,  became  the  vernacular  tongue  of 
the  whole  world.  The  genius  of  Athenians  made  their 
speech  universal;  the  treasures  which  they  deposited 
in  it  rendered  its  acquisition  essential  to  all ;  and  thus 
the  sway,  unlimited  in  extent,  and  invincible  in  power, 
which  was  wielded  over  the  universe  by  the  arms  of 
Rome,  was  exercised  over  Rome  itself  by  the  arts  of 
Athens.  To  Attica,  therefore,  it  is  to  be  attributed 
that,  first,  precisely  at  the  season  when  such  a  channel 
of  general  communication  was  most  needed,  there  existed 


h 


\ 


ATHENS. 


833 


a  common  language  in  tbe  world ;  and,  secondly,  that 
this  language  vras  Greek  ;  or,  in  other  words,  that  there 
was,  at  the  time  of  the  first  propagation  of  the  Gospel, 
a  tongue  in  which  it  could  be  preached  to  the  whole 
earth,  and  that  Greek,  the  most  worthy  of  such  a 
distinction,  was  the  language  of  Inspiration — the  tonguo 
of  the  earliest  preachers  and  writers  of  Christianity. 
Therefore  we  may  regard  Attica,  viewed  in  this  light, 
as  engaged  in  the  same  cause,  and  leagued  in  a  holy 
confederacy,  with  Palestine ;  we  may  consider  the 
philosophers,  and  orators,  and  poets  of  this  country 
as  preparing  the  way,  by  a  special  dispensation  of 
God's  providence,  for  the  Apostles,  and  Fathers,  and 
Apologists  of  the  Church  of  Christ." 

In  fact,  the  history  of  Athens  is,  in  one  sense,  the 
history  of  all  Greece ;  perhaps,  we  might  say,  of  the 
whole  world  during  a  certain  period.  Fraught  with 
political  changes  the  most  exciting,  and  exercising  an 
influence  that  imperceptibly  diffused  itself,  though  not 
always  under  the  same  form,  throughout  the  civilized 
world,  Athens  is  the  centre  of  ancient  constitutional 
study.  At  Athens,  history  finds  examples  of  every 
variety  of  legislature  ;  furnishes  specimens  of  their 
respective  effects  ;  and,  in  a  word,  teaches  almost  all 
that  every  other  history  can  teach,  whether  it  regards 
the  private  or  social  condition  of  man. 

At  the  same  time,  amid  this  universality  of  example, 
we  must  be  prepared  to  find  much  that  is  revolting 
to  the  bebt  feelings  of  reason  or  humanity.  Like  all 
other  states,  Athens  possessed  the  same  corroding 
influences  which  suppurated  her  vital  energies,  and 
extinguished  the  glorious  breath  of  that  love  of  freedom 


884 


GREAT   CITIES    OF   THE    WORLD. 


which  a  Byron  could  sigh  for,  but  not  call  back  into 
the  lovely  corpse  of  ileail,  degraded  Hellas.  Corruption 
at  elections,  love  of  place,  and  scandalous,  openly- 
professed,  and  avowedly-tolerated  immorality,  were 
the  base  successors  to  the  honest  independence  of  the 
olden  time,  the  healthy  limited  monarchy,  or  steadfast 
and  impartial  democracy,  and  the  grave  hardihood  of 
the  sons  of  Codrus.  Add  to  this,  the  degeneracy  in 
regard  to  religious  feeling,  and  the  consequent  oblivion 
of  the  rights  of  men.  "  It  is  the  glory,"  says  Heeren, 
*'  of  the  Greeks,  that  they  honoured  the  nobler  feelings 
of  humanitv,  where  other  nations  were  unmindful  of 
them.  They  flourished  so  long  as  they  possessed  self- 
government  enough  to  do  this ;  they  fell  when  sacred 
things  ceased  to  be  sacred." 

In  contemplating  the  early  history  of  Attica,  we  aro 
as  much  beset  by  difficulties,  as  in  any  of  the  other 
early  states  and  cities  of  the  human  race.  Mythology 
is  at  work,  and  in  fantastical  stories  about  Poseidon 
(Neptune),  Athene  (Minerva),  Erichthonius,  and  a 
variety  of  other  heroes  and  heroines,  locally,  and 
religiously  connected  with  this  soil,  we  are  struck 
with  the  incongruities,  whilst  we  are  delighted  by  tho 
charms,  of  early  Grecian  history.  An  endless  field 
of  poetical  narrative  unfolds  itself  in  the  writings  of 
tlie  Athenian  stage  ;  Scholiasts  of  a  later  d=itp  and 
compilers  of  popular  myths,  astound  us  by  the  rich 
diversity  of  their  stories  of  early  Athens ;  and  it  is 
but  occasionally  that  one  distinctly-marked  feature 
of  likelihood  stands  out  from  the  mass  of  pretty 
uncertainties  and  fictitious  plausibilities;  and  literally 
surprises  us  by  its  resemblance  to  truth. 


neighl 


ATHENS. 


835 


When  we  look  at  the  hero-like,  yet  symmetrical 
proportions  of  tlie  Theseus  in  the  Elgin  collections, 
we  tcel  some  regret  at  finding  that  the  original  is 
as  doubtful  a  character  in  real  history,  as  his  marble 
neighbour  the  Ilissus,  the  old  river-god — the  god  of 
tiuit  stream,  along  the  banks  of  which,  amid  the  shades 
of  the  Academy,  Socrates  and  Plato  strolled  in  search 
of  truth.  Yet  the  legend  of  Theseus  has  a  vitality 
that  distinguishes  him  from  the  merely  symbolical 
benefactors  of  the  human  race.  Like  another  Hercules 
orAmadis  de  Gaul,  his  exploits  have  been  made  the 
subject  of  almost  boundless  exaggeration,  and  they 
have  been  pointed  out  as  worthy  objects  of  imitation 
by  those  who  were  with  reason  dissatisfied  with  the 
languid  inertness  of  their  own  times.  But  although 
we  cannot  fix  the  standard  of  our  belief  in  its  fitting 
and  just  proportion,  we  must  not  withdraw  credit  from 
the  report  which  represents  Theseus  as  the  king  under 
whose  banner  the  scattered  towns  of  Attica  ranged 
themselves,  and  round  whose  capital  city,  Athens, 
they  were  persuaded  to  consolidate  their  resources 
for  purposes  of  common  interest  and  defence. 

But,  with  our  narrow  limits,  we  must  rather  seek 
to  point  out  the  gradual  progress  of  Athens  to  the 
greatness  we  shall  briefly  describe,  than  to  dwell  upon 
the  manifold  difficulties  and  obscurities  of  her  early 
history. 

The  Trojan  war,  that  diverting  source  of  chivalric 
wonders,  which  has  furnished  materials  for,  we  might 
almost  say,  the  whole  cycle  of  Greek  epic  poetry, 
produced  strange  influences  on  the  condition  and 
prospects  of  the  Greeks. 


# 


886 


GREAT    CITIES    OF   THE    WORLD. 


• 


Involved  in  great  doubt  is  the  story  of  king  Oodrus. 
Ho  is  said  to  have  devoted  himself  for  the  good  of 
Athens  in  a  war  with  the  Dorians,  who  had  invaded 
the  northern  peninsula,  but  found  themselves  repulsed 
when  they  attempted  to  invade  the  frontiers  of  Athens. 
One  tradition  asserts,  that,  after  his  reign,  the  kingly 
power  ceased,  and  that  while  an  aristocratic  oligarchy 
was  substituted  ;  the  throne  of  the  dead  hero  was  left 
vacant,  in  testimony  to  his  patriotism. 

But,  as  was  destined  hereafter  to  lake  place  in  the 
rising  commonwealth  of  Home,  the  higher  class  of  the 
commons  kept  increasing  in  wealth,  and  that  wealth 
was  fostered  by  the  success  of  the  colonies  which 
continually  went  forth  from  the  mother-city.  But 
whilst  a  dislike  to  the  aristocracy  was  augmented  on 
their  part  by  their  increased  capabilities  of  displaying 
it,  it  was  widely  different  with  the  poorer  classes,  who 
became  oppressed  with  debt,  and  whose  free  rights  were 
consequently  and  proportionately  crippled.  Infamy, 
or,  in  a  more  restricted  sense,  disfranchisement,  was 
the  penalty  with  which  debt,  often  the  result  of  mis- 
fortune, was  visited ;  and  the  loss  of  the  privileges  of 
a  free  agent  led  in  some  instances  to  cruelties  that 
loudly  called  for  an  amelioration  of  the  existing 
system. 

The  laws  of  Draco  are  known  chiefly  by  their 
proverbial  severity ;  but,  while  they  may  have  served 
to  repress  some  of  the  open  outrages,  to  which  the 
struggles  between  the  wealthier  commons  and  the 
aristocracy  would  give  rise,  they  were  of  little  avail 
in  sheltering  the  poor  and  uninfluential  from  the 
aggressions  and  neglect  of  their  superiors.     Indeed, 


ATHENS. 


887 


the  la^s  of  Draco  appear  to  have  gone  upon  a  broad 
principle  of  severity,  little  adapted  to  that  self-reforming 
progress  which  is  the  surest  evidence  of  social  improve- 
ment. We  scarcely  know  to  what  extent  they  were 
curried  out ;  but  a  limited  experience  in  our  own  times 
is  sufficient  to  show  the  inefficiency  of  capital  punish- 
ments in  repressing  the  amount  of  crime  and  misde- 
meanor. 

Amid  such  an  imperfect  code  of  laws,  and  so  corrupt 
a  state  of  society,  Solon  appeared  as  the  grand  reformer 
of  abuses,  legal  and  social.  Wachsmuth,  a  first-rate 
antiqunrian,  has  given  so  excellent  an  account  of  the 
leading  work  of  reformation  under  this  great,  and,  one 
rejoices  to  think,  hisitorical  personage,  that  we  present 
it  to  our  readers  without  hesitation : — 

'■'■  Equity  and  moderation  are  described  by  the  ancients 
as  the  characteristics  of  his  mind ;  he  determined  to 
abuli.sh  the  privileges  of  particular  classes,  and  th» 
arbitrary  power  of  officers,  and  to  render  all  the 
participation  as  in  civil  and  political  freedom  equal  ii^ 
the  eye  of  the  law,  at  the  same  time  ensuring  to  every 
one  the  integrity  of  those  rights  to  which  his  real  merits 
entitled  him ;  on  the  other  hand,  he  was  far  from 
contemplating  a  total  subversion  of  existing  regulations ; 
lor  that  reason,  he  left  many  institutions,  for  example, 
Draco's  laws  on  murder,  in  full  force,  or  most  wisely 
suffered  them  to  exist  in  form,  whilst  the  old  and 
decayed  substance  was  carefully  extracted  and  replaced 
by  sound  materials.  Whatever  was  excellent  in  pre- 
scription was  incorporated  with  the  new  laws,  and 
thereby  stamped  afresh ;  but  prescription  as  such,  with 
the  exception  of  some  unwritten  religious  ordinance! 

29 


# 


888 


GREAT   CITIES   Of   THE   WORLD. 


of  the  Ettmolpids,  was  deprived  of  force.  The  law  was 
destined  to  be  the  sole  centre  whence  every  member 
of  the  political  community  was  to  derive  a  fixed  rule 
of  conduct,  secured  against  the  vicissitudes  of  arbitrary 
power  by  the  clear  and  explicit  character  of  its  precepts. 
"  The  chief  power  was  vested  in  the  collective  people ; 
but,  in  order  that  it  might  be  exercised  with  advantage, 
it  was  necessary  that  they  should  be  endowed  with 
common  rights  of  citizenship.  Solon  effected  this  by 
raising  the  lower  class  from  its  degradation,  and  by 
rendering  the  liberty  of  both  dependent  upon  the  law. 
The  essential  properties  of  citizenship  consisted  in  the 
share  possessed  by  every  citiien  in  the  legislature ;  the 
election  of  magistrates,  as  well  as  the  scrutiny  of  their 
conduct,  and  the  execution  of  the  laws  by  the  courts 
of  justice.  This  change  was  brought  about  by  two 
ordinances,  which  must  not  be  regarded  as  mere 
remedies  for  the  abuses  of  that  period,  but  as  the 
permanent  basis  of  free  and  legal  citizenship.  The 
one  was  the  Seisachtheia  ;  this  was  enacted  by  Solon 
to  aflford  relief  to  oppressed  debtors,  by  reducing  their 
debts  in  amount,  and  by  raising  the  value  of  money  in 
the  payment  of  interest  and  principal ;  at  the  same 
time  he  abrogated  the  former  rigorous  law  of  debt  by 
which  the  freeman  might  be  reduced  to  servitude,  and 
thus  secured  to  him  the  unmolested  poL^,spsF,ion  of  his 
legal  rights.  Moreover,  it  way  be  eonlidently  asserted, 
that  the  Seisachtheia  was  accompanied  by  the  conversion 
of  those  estates,  which  had  hitherto  been  held  of  the 
nobility,  by  the  payment  of  a  fixed  rent,  into  indepen- 
dent freehold  property  ;  thus  domiciliation^  and  tho 
possession  of  freehold  property,  were  the  maiuspringa 


ATHENS. 


889 


of  Solon's  citizenship.  A  second  ordinance  enjoined 
that  their  full  and  entire  right  should  be  restored  to 
all  citizens  who  had  incurred  Atimia,"'  except  to  absolute 
criminals.  This  was  not  only  destined  to  heal  the 
wounds  which  had  been  caused  by  the  previous  dissen- 
sions, but  as  till  that  time  the  law  of  debt  had  been 
able  to  reduce  citizens  to  Atimia,  and  the  majority  of 
the  Atimoi  pointed  out  by  Solon  were  slaves  for  debt, 
that  declaration  stood  in  close  connection  with  the 
Seisachtheia,  and  had  the  eflect  of  a  proclamation  from 
the  State  of  its  intention  to  guarantee  the  validity  of 
the  new  citizenship.  Hei  ce,  the  sacred  right  would 
no  longer  be  forfeited  through  the  operation  of  private 
laws,  but  through  the  commission  of  such  offences  only 
as  immediately  regarded  the  public  ;  on  the  other  side, 
indeed,  upon  the  principle  of  full  right  for  full  services, 
the  non-performance  of  a  public  duty  might  be  followed 
by  Atimia,  or  by  the  restriction  or  privation  of  the  full 
rights  of  citizenship,  and  it  frequently  happened,  even 
without  the  formality  of  a  judicial  sentence,  that  the 
neglect  of  an  obligation  to  the  State  involved  heavier 
penalties  than  a  crime  itself. 

Such  was  the  system  of  policy  which  made  men 
respect  the  civil  institutions  of  their  country  by  teach- 
ing them  self-consideration.  Where  every  man  felt 
himself  a  part  of  the  institutions  he  was  bound  to  up- 
hold, his  duty  as  a  citizen  became  a  natural  act  of  self- 
importance,  not  the  compulsory  tecitiiiiony  of  obedience; 
where  citizenship  was  held  out  as  the  motive,  not  for 
aggrandizing  a  family  by  the  purchase  of  influence, 
but  for  contributing  to  maintaining  a  power  in  the  pre- 

*  i.  e.  Dufranchisement,  infamy. 


• 


11 


840 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  TUE  WOULD. 


Bervation  of  which  each  father  of  a  family  felt  himself 
interested,  the  best  principles  of  democracy  might  be 
said  to  be  in  full  force.  It  was  not  by  an  unbridled 
onslaught  on  the  property  and  privileges  of  the  class 
whose  ancestral  renown  could  scarcely  be  forgotten 
even  in  a  democracy ;  it  was  not  by  indiscriminately 
giving  away  both  means  and  privileges  to  those  who 
had  nothing ;  but  it  was  by  making  each  class  of  suffi- 
cient consequence  to  bu  respectable  in  the  eyes  of  the 
other ;  and  by  rendering  respectability  an  attribute  of 
character  and  zeal,  not  debasing  it  to  a  slang  word  for 
property  and  county  influence,  that  Solon  sought  to 
re-model  Athens. 

Framed  with  an  equal  regard  to  the  well-being  of 
all,  were  the  new  laws  repeating  the  naturalization  of 
aliens,  the  better  treatment  of  the  Metoeci,  and  even 
an  amelioration  of  the  condition  of  the  slaves.  Our 
limits  <lo  not  permit  us  to  give  a  full  account  of  the 
various  reforms  worked  in  these  respects,  but  the  fol- 
lowing remarks,  from  the  pen  of  the  author  above 
quoted,  will  give  an  excellent  idea  of  the  change  in  the 
share  of  i>ower  possessed  by  each  citizen : — 
^  "  With  reference  to  a  share  in  the  supreme  power, 
the  citizenship  must  first  be  considered  in  its  largest 
extent,  as  a  common  possession,  of  which  the  lowest 
persons  were  not  deprived,  and  which  varied  in  degree 
according  to  ago ;  and  secondly,  in  connection  with 
those  rights  which  proceeded  from  a  difference  of  valua- 
tion. Every  citizen  had  a  right  to  speak  in  the  popular 
assembly,  and  to  judge,  upon  oath,  in  the  courts ;  but 
the  former  of  these  rights  might  be  exercised  at  an 
earlier  age  than  the  latter.     Upon  attaining  the  ago 


W 


GRECIAN  WARRIOR. 


-i~ri 


\ 


fV 


,«MfT-- 


ATHSK8. 


848 


of  puberty,  the  sons  of  citizens  entered  public  life  under 
the  name  of  Ephebi.  The  state  gave  them  two  years 
for  the  full  development  of  their  youthful  strength,  and 
the  practice  of  the  foot  races  and  other  exercises  which 
might  ensure  its  efficient  dedication  to  the  most  impor- 
taut  duty  of  a  citizen,  viz.  the  service  of  arms.  Upon 
the  expiration  of  the  second,  and,  according  to  the 
most  authentic  accounts,  in  their  eighteenth  year,  they 
received  the  shield  and  spear  in  the  popular  assembly, 
complete  armour  being  given  to  the  sons  of  those  who 
had  fallen  in  battle,  and  in  the  temple  of  Agraulos 
took  the  oath  of  young  citizens,  the  chief  obligation  of 
which  concerned  the  defence  of  their  country;  and 
then  for  the  space  of  one  or  two  years  performed  mili- 
tary service  in  the  Attic  border  fortresses,  under  the 
name  of  Peripoli.  The  ceremony  of  arming  them  was 
followed  by  enrolment  in  the  book  which  contained  the 
names  of  those  who  had  attained  majority ;  this  empow- 
ered the  young  citizen  to  manage  his  fortune,  preside  over 
a  household,  enter  the  popular  assembly,  and  speak. 
When  he  asserts  the  last  right,  namely,  the  Isegoria, 
Parrhesia,  he  was  denominated  Rhetor,  and  this  ap- 
pellation denoted  4he  difference  between  him  and  the 
silent  members  of  the  assembly,  the  Idiotes  ;*  but  the 
speakers  were  not  singled  out  from  the  rest  of  the 
members  in  the  manner  of  a  corporation,  or  particular 
order,  or  the  character  of  regular  functionaries.  What 
was  called  the  Dokimasiaf  of  the  Rhetors  was  not  a 
scrutiny  of  office,  but  a  measure  which  was  adopted  in 
case  a  citizen,  who  had  forfeited  the  right  of  speaking 


A 


m- 


*  t.  e.  private  personi. 


f  iDTeitigatioDi  lorutiDy. 


844 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


in  consequence  of  At'.raia,  presumed  to  exercise  it,  and 
it  required  to  be  preceded  by  a  special  motion  to  that 
effect.  That  this  Dokimasia  is,  in  the  ancient  authors,  po 
frequently  classed  with  that  of  the  Archons  and  Strategi, 
must  be  explained  from  the  jj;rowing  political  import- 
ance of  oratory,  which  imparted  a  sort  of  official  cha- 
racter, like  that  of  legally-olected  military  commanders, 
and  civil  functionaries,  to  the  self-constituted  dema- 
gogues of  the  day. 

"  Moreover,  after  oratory  began  to  be  studied  syste- 
matically, the  word  Rhetor  became  confined  to  the 
cUsa  of  professed  sophists,  Autoschediasts  becoming 
comparatively  rare,  and  a  marked  line  being  drawn 
between  them  and  the  remaining  mass.  Finally,  the 
order  of  speaking  depended  upon  age ;  those  who  were 
more  than  fifty  years  old  being  entitled  to  speak  first. 
Upon  attaining  his  thirtieth  year,  the  citizen  might 
assert  his  superior  rights ;  he  was  qualified  for  a  mem- 
ber of  the  sworn  tribunal,  entitled  the  Helisea.  For 
this  purpose  it  was  requisite  to  take  a  new  oath  in  the 
open  place  called  Ardettus,  which  chiefly  related  to 
civil  duties  generally;  but  its  conclusion  prescribed 
judicial  obligations.  This  must  be  distinguished  from 
the  short  oath  which  it  was  necessary  to  take  before  a 
court  of  any  description  could  be  held.  The  word 
Heliast,  does  not  merely  signify  a  judge,  but  the  citizen 
who  has  fully  attained  maturity,  and  whose  superior 
right  is  proclaimed  in  the  performance  of  juridical  func- 
tions, as  the  most  important  public  agency  of  which  he 
is  capable,  as  the  rights  of  younger  citizens  are  implied 
by  the  act  of  public  speaking.     The  judges  of  the 


^s*^'at  ,n-mn:Ti^sm^i»t  .' 


,^^fmv9«f^'^  »»^»-T^i'j.  •■»  ^ 


k 


Ml'^ 


ATHENS. 


':1S1> 


845 


courts  of  the  Disfitetoe*  o.nd  Epliaetffi,t  which  existed  ' 
without  the  circle  of  the  ordinary  tribunal,  were  re- 
quired to  be  still  older  men  than  the  Heliasts,  via. 
fifty  or  sixty  years  of  age. 

"  Solon  appointed  gradations  in  the  rights  of  citizen- 
ship, according  to  the  conditions  of  a  x  vr^sus  in  reference 
to  the  otfices  of  State.,  which,  although  not  in  themselves 
modifications  of  the  highest  legislative  and  judicial 
power,  nevertheless  exercised  a  most  important  influence 
upon  it  as  advising  and  directing  authorities.  Upon 
the  principle  of  a  conditional  equality  of  rights,  which 
assigns  to  every  one  as  much  as  he  deserves,  and  which 
is  highly  characteristic  of  Solon's  policy  in  general,  he 
instituted  four  cHsses  according  to  a  valuation ;  these 
wire  the  Peniiacosiomedimini,!  the  Hippeis,§  the 
Zeugit8e,ii  and  the  Thetes.^  The  valuation,  however, 
only  iiffected  that  portion  of  capital  from  which  contri- 
butions to  the  State  burthens  were  required,  conse- 
quently, according  to  Bockh,  a  taxable  capital. 

"  This  counteracts  the  unworthy  notion  that  this 
regulation  was  intended  to  raise  wealth  itself  in  the 
scale  of  importance,  and  serves  to  exhibit  its  real  object, 
which  was  to  impose  that  burthen  which  unpaid  offices 
of  State  might  prove  lo  needy  persons,  on  such  as 
could  administer  them  without  prejudice  to  their  domestic 
relations,  so  that  a  person  who  was  declared  eligible 


"1 


'  I' 


*  i'.  e.  Arbitrator.', 
f  Commis.siouerH. 

t Those  rated  at:  property  =  500  bn^bcls  "wet  nnd  dry,"  says  Pollux, 
viii.  10,  p.  408. 
2  Kuights,  or  tbose  capable  of  keeping  horoes. 
II  A  word  ot'  uni3ortain  ciri;;iti. 
%  The  lowoat  (or  »eri;ii\)  clas.*,  iix-iipable  of  office. 


346 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


could  only  be  dispensed  from  it  by  means  of  an  oath, 
and  thus  to  guard  the  state  against  the  effect  of  that 
pernicious  cupidity  which  is  so  frequently  combined 
with  indigence ;  it  was,  at  f\e  same  time,  a  means  to 
reward  the  citizen,  who  ve"  obliged  to  satisfy  the 
higher  claims  of  the  C  itf,  by  the  enjoyment  of 
corresponding  rights.  The  Thetes,  the  last  of  these 
classes,  v'ere  not  regularly  summoned  to  perform 
military  service,  but  only  exercised  the  civic  right  as 
members  of  the  assembly  and  the  law  courts ;  the  second 
and  third,  from  which  the  cavalry  were  chosen,  likewise 
acted  aa.functioDaries,  and  when  irreproachable  in  other 
respects,  and  according  to  the  conditions  of  the  census, 
sat  in  the  council  of  the  four  hundred ;  whilst  the  highest 
class  exclusively  supplied  the  superior  offices — such  as 
the  archonship,  and  through  this  the  council  of  the 
Areopagus."  * 

-  But  the  reform  worked  by  Solon  built  too  much  upon 
the  better  feelings  of  mankind,  to  remain  undisturbed  ; 
"  evil  passions,"  as  Wachsmuth  pithily  remarks,  "could 
not  be  subdued  by  ideas;"  and  disputes  began  to  renew 
the  ancient  differences  between  the  different  classes : 
and  the  lower  order,  ill  satisfied  with  the  legal  rights 
and  privileges  they  had  obtained,  and  readily  alive  to 
the  deadly  and  perverting  influence  of  bribery,  fell  an 
easy  prey  to  the  plausible  impositions  of  Pisistratus, 
who,  although  repeatedly  expelled,  had  built  his  hopes 
of  success  too  surely  on  the  stupidity  of  mankind  to  fail 
of  ultimate  success.  Nor  can  Pisistratus  be  regarded 
as  a  mere  tyrant,  in  the  modern  sense  of  the  word. 
Desirous  of  supporting  the  institutions  of  Solon,  himself 
submissive  to  the  laws  of  the  country,  the  patron  of  art 


I 


.:r 


ATHENS. 


847 


and  letters,  he  merely  seized  the  opportunity  that 
Athenian  weakness  had  furnished,  hut  did  not  abuse  it. 
^  Nevertheless,  the  Athenians  had  done  wrong.  They 
had  lost  their  noble  horror  of  absolute  power — a  power 
which  was  ill  adapted  to  their  social  character  or 
position.  However,  upon  the  expulsion  of  the  sons  of 
Pisistratus,  forty-one  years  after  the  commencement 
of  the  tyranny,  factions  broke  out  anew,  and  a  fresh 
reformer  appeared  in  the  person  of  Clisthenes  the 
Alcmaenoid,  about  508  b.  c.  The  main  feature  of  the 
new  system  thus  introduced  consisted  in  the  formation 
of  ten  new  tribes  in  lieu  of  the  four  ancient  ones. 
Aristotle  considers  this  arrangement  as  essentially 
democratic,  because  the  dissolution  of  ancient  connec- 
tions, and  the  greater  mixture  of  the  citizens,  are 
calculated  to  promote  the  introduction  of  democracy. 
"It  is  not,"  therefore,  *'so  much  to  the  increase  in 
the  number  of  the  tribes,  as  to  the  abolition  of  institu- 
tions which  were  connected  with  the  ancient  ones,  but 
which  impeded  the  progress  of  democracy,  that  we 
should  direct  our  attention  as  to  the  most  prominent 
feature  in  the  changes  of  Clisthenes." 

And  now  Athens  was  fairly  on  the  road  to  the  glory 
in  which  we  shall  shortly  describe  her.  AVe  have 
already  alluded  to  the  spirited  conduct  of  the  Atlioniiins, 
in  repressing  the  forces  of  the  Persians  in  their  attempt 
to  enslave  ixreece.  "The  Athenians  were  left  almost 
alone  to  repel  the  fii  t  invasion  of  Darius  Hystaspis ; 
but  we  2^ory  w jn  at  Marathon  was  not  sufficient  to 
create  a  general  enthusiasm,  when  greater  danger 
threatened  them  from  the  invasion  of  Xerxci.  .  .  . '", 
So  true  is  the  remark  of  Herodotus,  that,  however  ill 


I'  I 


S48 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


it  might  be  taken  by  others,  he  was  compelled  to  declare 
that  Greece  was  indebted  for  its  freedom  to  Athens- 
Athfins,  with  Themistocles  for  its  leader,  gave  life  aiid 
courage  to  the  other  states ;  yielded,  where  it  was  its 
duty  to  yield;  and  alvays  relied  on  its  own  strengtli, 
while  it  seemed  to  expect  safety  from  all.  Her  hopes 
were  not  disappointed  in  the  result;  the  battle  of 
Salamis  gave  a  new  impulse  to  the  spirit  of  the  Greeks ; 
and  when,  in  the  following  year,  thr  battle  of  Platfjca 
decide*'!  the  contest,  the  greater  part  of  Greece  a  as 
asseiubied  on  the  iield  of  battle." 

But  Athens,  tiv?  saviour  of  Greece,  was  yet  destined 
to  become  a  step-mother  to  those  whom  she  had  fostv-^red 
through  dangers  and  difficulties  which  her  almost 
romantic  heroism  had  so  successfully  overcome.  The 
influence  acquired  from  the  renown  gained  by  her 
exertions  during  the  Persian  war,  was  turned  into  a, 
means  of  aggression  ;  and  the  consciousness  of  power 
tempted  her  to  acts  of  despotism.  The  Peloponnesian 
war  (431  b.  c.)  aroused  the  whole  of  the  Dorian  and 
^oiian  states  against  her ;  and  although,  despite  the 
horrors  of  a  terrific  pestilence,  and  the  revolt  of  her 
Ionian  subjects,  the  naval  skill  of  her  seamen,  and  the 
valiant  enterprise  of  her  commander,  proved  a  match 
for  so  alarming  a  confederacy,  still,  the  fairest  days 
of  Athens  were  gone :  she  had  abused  her  mighty 
resources,  and  her  power  was  rapidly  departing  from 
her. 

Sparta  and  Thebes  made  as  ill  use  of  the  influence 
they  in  turn  acquired  at  a  subsequent  period ;  and, 
with  Athens,  fell  a  prey  to  the  crafty  and  calculating 
schemes  of  Philip  of  Macedon.     In  vain  did  a  Demos- 


ATHENS. 


849 


thenes  invoke  their  attention ;  fruitlessly  did  he  strive 
to  rallj^  to  the  field  the  listless  flock  who  '*  sat  talking 
and  asking  questions"  in  the  forum.  The  Athenians 
were  fust  degenerating  into  an  almost  Albanian  indo- 
lence, a  state  from  which  she  ncVer  recovered.  "With 
the  loss  of  civil  liberty,  Athens  lost  her  genius,  her 
manly  mind,  and  whatever  remained  of  her  virtue : 
she  long  continued  to  produce  talents,  which  were  too 
often  made  tools  of  iniquity,  panders  to  power,  and 
petty  artificers  of  false  philosophy." 

Before  mentioning  a  few  of  the  long  list  of  great 
men  who  have  adorned  the  name  of  Athens  throughout 
the  annals  of  history,  we  will  give  as  complete  a  sketch 
of  the  city  of  Athens  in  her  greatness  and  her  downfall, 
as  our  limits  will  allow.  We  will  follow  Wordsworth 
as  a  guide  : — 

"  In  order  to  obtain  a  distinct  notion  of  the  natural 
cliaractoiistics  of  the  spot  to  which  we  refer,  let  us  con- 
sider it,  in  the  first  place,  as  abstracted  from  artificial 
modifications : — let  us  imagine  ourselves  as  existing  in 
the  days  of  Ceerops,  and  looking  upon  the  site  of 
Athens.  In  a  wide  plain,  wliich  is  enclosed  by  moun- 
tains, except  on  the  south,  where  it  is  bounded  by  the 
sea,  rises  u  tiat  oblong  rock,  lying  from  east  to  west, 
about  fifty  yards  high,  rather  ino)e  than  160  broad  and 
oOO  in  length.  It  is  inaccessible  on  all  sides  but  the 
west,  on  which  it  is  approached  by  a  steep  slope. 
This  is  the  future  Acropolis,  or  Citadel  of  Athens.  We 
place  ourselves  upon  the  eminence,  and  cast  our  eyes 
about  us.  Immediately  on  the  west  is  a  second  hill, 
of  irregular  form,  lower  than  that  on  which  we  stand, 
and  opposite  to  it.     This  is  the  Areopagus.     Beneath 

30 


i  ■! 


850     . 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


■    ^■-'                            ■■•-■•^.-./"  N-,  -1 

~  ji" '  .■  ■'  .■   -1  • 

M^^^      '         ^    '■ 

■-. .  .    -■§^^:r'  . ., 

■■,-  ..^  ■  ,:  -  ->:.-,■ -^:.j_> 

■    "^"  .. 

_-^->< 

y!iiMijiiiaaii>>,,-^i;ffl){ai%(...  >  ■  ■/' 

^       _—  ■  -^ 

—  ■            ■    - '       - ,             ,«■■■_ 

Sf''-'''>'''t>"'-/^-A":''V-,-  *" — -.- 

""^tx^'^MS^ 

.fciS^k.     W 

,  ->--.ff*I^Ai. 

S-^SS^S^^^uSiSWr,.     '=*^    ■    . 

■:           .     -             -  "■^'^' 

vV--^V'-'~^      '            '    .   ,  ^ 

■-4 

■ 

TBI  PMTZ. 


It,  on  the  south-west,  is  a  valley,  neither  deep  nor  nar- 
row, open  both  at  the  north-west  and  south-east.  Here 
was  the  Agora,  or  public  place  of  Athens.  Above  it, 
to  the  south-west,  rises  another  hill,  formed,  like  the 
two  others  already  mentioned,  of  hard  and  rugged  lime- 
stone, clothed  here  and  there  with  a  scanty  covering 
of  herbage.  On  this  hill  the  popular  assemblies  of  the 
future  citizens  of  Athens  will  be  held.  It  will  be 
called  the  Pnyx.  To  the  south  of  it  is  a  fourth  hill  of 
similar  kind,  known  in  after  ages  as  the  Museum. 
Thus  a  group  of  four  hills  is  presented  to  our  view, 
which  nearly  enclose  the  space  wherein  the  Athenian 
Agora  existed,  as  the  Forum  of  Home  lay  between  the 
hills  of  the  Capital  and  the  Palatine. 
■  "Beyond  the  plain,  to  the  south-west,  the  sea  is 
visible,  distant  about  four  miles  from  this  central  rock. 
On  the  coast  are  three  bays, — the  future  harbours  of 
Athens, — the  Phalerura,  Munychia,  and  Piraeus;  the 


€ 

». 


♦5 


ATHENS. 


853 


first  being  the  nearest  to  us,  the  last  the  most  distant 
from  our  present  position.  Toward  the  coast,  and  in 
the  direction  of  tliesc  ports,  run  two  small  streams, 
botli  coming  from  the  north-east ;  the  one  on  the  south 
side  of  us  passing  us  at  a  distance  of  half  a  mile,  the 
otlicr  on  the  north,  at  the  distance  of  two :  they  do  not 
roach  the  shore,  but  are  lost  in  the  intermediate  plain. 
The  former  is  the  Ilissus,  the  latter  the  Cephisus.  To 
the  nortli  of  tlic  former,  and  at  a  mile  distance  to  the 
north-east  of  the  Acropolis,  is  a  rocky  conical  hill,  of 
considerable  height,  and  one  of  the  most  striking  fea- 
tures of  the  scenery  of  Athens.  This  is  Mount  Lyca- 
bettus.  Regarding,  then,  the  hill  of  the  Acropolis  as 
the  centre  of  the  future  city  of  Athens,  wo  have,  as  its 
natural  fi(  nticrs  to  the  north  and  south,  two  rivers, 
while  on  the  east  and  west  it  is  bounded  by  hills;  its 
limit  on  the  east  being  the  mountain  of  Lycabettus, 
and  on  the  west  the  lower  range,  which  consists  of  the 
Pnyx  and  the  Museum.  Such  is  a  brief  sketch  of  the 
physical  features  which  distinguish  the  site  of  the 
Athenian  city. 

"  Wo  now  quit  the  period  of  remote  antiquity,  when 
the  soil  of  the  future  Athens  was  either  untenanted  or 
occupied  only  by  a  few  rude  and  irregular  buildings, 
and  pass  at  once  to  the  time  when  it  had  attained  that 
splendour  ■v\hich  made  it,  in  literature  and  art,  the 
metropolitan  city  of  the  world.  A  more  striking  con- 
trast than  that  which  is  presented  by  the  appearance 
of  the  same  spot  at  these  two  different  epochs,  cannot 
well  be  imagined. 

"No  longer,  therefore,  as  contemporaries  of  th€» 
ancient  kings  of  Attica,  but  existing,  in  imagination,  in 

30* 


>^ 


854 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WuRLD. 


V^ 


the  age  of  Pericles  and  of  his  immediate  successors,  we 
now  contemplate  this  city  as  it  then  cxibited  itself  to 
the  age.  First,  wo  direct  our  attention  to  the  central 
rock  of  the  Acropolis.  And  let  us  here  suppose  our- 
selves as  joining  at  this  period  that  splendid  procession 
of  minstrels,  priests,  and  victims,  of  horsemen  and  of 
chariots,  which  ascended  to  that  place  at  the  quin- 
quennial solemnity  of  the  Great  Panathensea.  Atop 
above  the  heads  of  the  trains,  the  sacred  Peplos,  raised 
and  stretched  like  a  sail  upon  the  mast,  waves  in  the 
air :  it  is  variegated  with  an  embroidered  tissue  of  bat- 
tles, of  giants,  and  of  Gods :  it  will  be  carried  to  the 
temple  of  the  Minerva  Polias  in  the  Citadel,  whoso 
statue  it  is  intended  to  adorn.  In  the  bright  season 
of  summer,  on  the  28th  day  of  the  Athenian  month 
Hecatombseon,  let  us  mount  with  this  procession  to  the 
western  slope  of  the  Acropolis.  Toward  the  termina- 
tion of  its  course,  we  are  brought  in  face  of  a  colossal 
fabric  of  white  marble,  which  crowns  the  brow  of  the 
steep,  and  stretches  itself  from  north  to  south  across  the 
whole  western  front  of  the  Citadel,  which  is  about  170 
feet  in  breadth. 

"  The  centre  of  this  fabric  consists  of  a  portico  60 
feet  broad,  and  formed  of  six  fluted  colums  of  the  Doric 
order,  raised  upon  four  steps,  and  intersected  by  a  road 
passing  through  the  midst  of  the  columns,  which  are 
thirty  feet  in  height,  and  support  a  noble  pediment. 
From  this  portico,  two  wings  project  about  thirty  feet 
to  the  west,  each  having  three  columns  on  the  side 
nearest  the  portico  in  the  centre. 

*'  The  architectural  mouldings  of  the  fabric  glitter  in 
the  sun  with  briUiant  tints  of  rod  and  blue  :  in  the  cen- 


ATHENS. 


855 


tre,  the  coffers  of  its  soffits  arc  spangled  with  stars,  and 
the  antae  of  the  wings  are  fringed  with  an 


stars, 
azure 


em- 


broidery of  ivy  leaf. 
*'  We  DJisH  alonir  t 


lyi 


between  the  two 
central  columns  of  the  portico,  and  through  a  corridor 
leading  from  it,  and  formed  by  three  Ionic  columns  on 
each  hand,  and  are  brought  in  front  of  five  doors  of 
liron/o ;  th«  centre  one,  which  is  the  loftiest  and  broadest, 
being  imniodiately  before  us.  ^ 

•  '•  This  structure  which  wo  are  describing  is  the  Pro- 
pyljjea  or  vestibule  of  the  Athenian  citadel.  It  is  built 
of  Pentelic  marble.  In  the  year  437  B.  c,  it  was  com- 
menced, and  was  completed  by  the  architect  Mnesicles 
in  five  years  from  that  time.  Its  termination,  there- 
fore, coincides  very  nearly  with  the  commencement  of 
the  Peloponnesian  war. 

"After  a  short  pause,  in  order  to  contemplate  the 
objects  around  us,  to  explore  the  gallery,  adorned  with 
the  painting  of  Polygnotus,  in  the  left  wing  of  the 
Propyl5«a,  and  to  visit  the  temple  of  Victory  on  the 
right,  which  possesses  four  Ionic  columns  on  its  western, 
and  four  at  its  eastern  end,  thus  being  approached  by 
two  facades,  and  whose  frieze  is  sculptured  with  figures 
of  Persians  and  of  Greeks  fighting  on  the  plain  of  the 
Marathon,  we  return  to  the  marble  corridor  of  the 
Propylaea. 

"  We  will  now  imajiine  that  the  m-eat  bronze  doors 
of  which  we  have  spoken  as  standing  at  the  termination 
of  this  gallery  are  thrown  back  upon  their  hinges,  to 
admit  the  riders  and  charioteers,  and  all  that  long  and 
magnificent  array  of  the  Panathenaic  procession,  whicli 
stretches  back  from  this  spot  to  the  aveii  of  the  A-gora 


'' 


356 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


at  tlie  western  foot  of  tlio  Citadel.  Wc  behold  through 
this  vista  the  interior  of  the  Athenian  Acropolis.  We 
pass  under  the  gateway  before  us,  and  enter  its  pre- 
cincts, surrounded  on  all  sides  by  massive  walls;  wc 
tread  the  soil  on  which  the  greatest  men  of  the  ancient 
world  have  walked,  and  behold  buildings  ever  admired 
and  imitated,  and  never  equalled  in  beauty.  We  stand 
on  the  platform  which  is  above  the  Temple,  the  For- 
tress, and  the  Museum  of  Athens." 

A  notice  of  the  Acropolis,  on  or  around  which  all 
the  most  magnificent  and  important  buildings  of  Athens 
were  collected,  is  naturally  followed  by  some  remarks 
on  the  state  of  the  arts  in  the  golden  era  of  this  city 
of  the  world.  I  shall  follow  lleeren,  classifying  the 
arts,  as  architecture,  sculpture,  and  painting. 

Between  the  rough  Cyclopsean  walls  at  Mycenre 
and  the  polished  marble  structures  of  the  Acropolis, 
we  discern  as  great  a  distance,  whether  in  lapse  of 
years  or  of  progress  in  style ;  yet  even  in  the  poems 
of  Homer  we  meet  with  enough  of  architectural  detail 
to  cause  the  antiquarian  considerable  difficulty,  and  at 
the  same  time  prove  that  the  simplicity  of  early  Gre- 
cian structures  was  not  so  great  as  may  have  been  sup- 
posed. But  there  is  a  certain  definite  style  of  archi- 
tecture, of  which  Ave  fortunately  possess  not  only  the 
models,  but  the  theory,  and  with  such  examples  as  it 
presents,  the  Acropolis  has  been  the  favourite  school 
of  imitation  for  the  architect  and  sculptor. 

Heeren  has  well  remarked,  in  reference  to  the  Heroic 
ages,  that,  "  in  the  dwellings  and  halls  of  the  kings 
there  prevailed  a  certain  grandeur  and  splendour 
which,  iiowever,  we  can  hardly  designate  by  the  name 


ATHENS. 


857 


of  scientific  architecture."  When,  however,  the  cur- 
rent of  popular  feeling  began  to  run  in  favour  of  equal- 
ity of  rights,  and  an  almost  universal  participation  in 
the  government,  these  difTercnces  in  private  dwellings 
Avcre  looked  upon  as  invidious  distinctions,  and  to 
build  a  largo  and  splendid  house  became  an  infringe- 
ment upon  popular  liberty. 

Hence  Athens  possessed  few  fine  streets.  Unlike 
our  own  modern  houses,  architectural  regularity  was 
little  cultivated,  and  the  materials  were  simple  and 
inexpensive.  "The  splendour  of  the  city  was  not 
perceived  till  the  public  squares  and  the  Acropolis 
were  approached.  The  small  dwellings  of  Themis- 
tocles  and  Aristides  were  long  pointed  out ;  and  the 
building  of  large  houses  was  looked  upon  as  a  proof 
of  pride." 

Hence,  even  at  a  late  period,  when  luxury  had 
given  rise  to  larger  houses  and  more  expensive  esta- 
blislnnents,  we  still  find  the  application  of  architectural 
symmetry  confined  to  temples,  and  subsequently  to  the 
theatres,  porticoes,  and  gymnasia.  Even  these,  how- 
e"er,  may  be  regarded  as  forming  part  of  the  religious 
structure  of  Athens.  So  intimately  was  the  drama 
connected  with  the  sacred  rites  of  Eacchus,  that  we 
are  at  once  struck  with  the  similar  coincidence  in  the 
origin  of  our  own  dramatic  literature  from  the  rude 
"n)ysteries"  of  the  middle  ages. 

To  describe  tho  temples  which  cluster  about  the 
precincts  of  Athens  were  an  endless  task.  Noble  are 
the  proportions  of  tho  columns,  varied  tho  devices  on 
the  friezes,  teJliiig  whole  histovies  of  the  heroes  whoso 
greatness  and  wliose  services  had  deserved  these  per- 


41 


■) 


858 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE  WORLD. 


manent  though  exaggerated  ineraorials,  and  celebrating 
alternately  the  loves  and  battles  of  those  gods  whom 
they  had  raised  from  their  fanciful  conceptions  of 
ennobled  humanity. 

Is  there  less  of  symbolism  in  the  Grecian  than  in 
the  Oriental  temple  ?  Undoubtedly  not.  But  it  is 
of  a  less  grotesque,  of  a  more  refined  and  poetical  cha- 
racter. And  it  is  so  in  natural  objects.  Each  stream 
has  its  legend  of  hapless  youth,  of  maiden,  "  who  had 
loved  not  wisely,  but  too  well;"  of  nymph  wafted  to 
realms  of  love  and  bliss  athwart  the  breath  of  the 
amorous  zephyr.  Where  Plato  muses,  there  Socrates 
prates  casuistry  tigainst  casuistry;  there  glides  the 
Ilissus — that  gentle  stream  which  he  dared  not  enter 
before  he  had  appeased  the  god  of  love  whom  his 
invectives  had  oTended.  There  did  his  guardian 
spirit,  that  pleasing  riddle  to  Platonists,  hinder  the 
hasty  words  of  its  talkative  master.  As  we  follow 
the  little  stream  in  its  humble  course,  the  air  seems 
peopled  with  the  ghosts  of  the  martyr  philosopher  and 
his  disciples;  the  spirits  of  the  waters  seem  to  join 
chorus,  and,  as  we  look  at  the  ruined  prospect  before 
us,  we  feel  thankful  that  a  Plato  still  lives  iniperisli- 
ably  in  his  writings — that  legacy  which  is  its  own 
title-deed. 

Nor  was  the  Grecian  character  unobservant  of  tlio 
charm  of  such  associations.  As  the  inhabitants  of 
Chios  rejoiced  in  pointing  out  the  rock  benches  on 
which  Homer  sat  and  discoursed  in  sonir,  so  did  tlio 
Athenians  yearn  with  affection  for  each  spot  that  liad 
been  the  scene  of  bygone  glories,  where  the  heart  had 
warmed  with  impulse,  the  imagination  expanded  in  the 


ATHENS. 


859 


sublimity  of  poetry,  or  the  reason  descended  into  its 
own  innermost  depths  in  quest  of  as-oft-receding  cer-  . 
tiiinty.  Even  the  phuie-trce  that  Socrates  had  loved, 
that  Plato  had  celebrated,  and  which  has  furnished  a 
dozen  dcclaimers  with  descriptions,  was  shown  with 
delight  in  the  days  of  Tully. 

But  all  the  poetry  of  Athens,  whether  sculptured  on 
the  legends  of  the  friezes  of  the  Parthenon,  pealing 
forth  in  the  sublime  choruses  of  the  Attic  tragedians, 
or  varying  the  heavy  quaintness  of  Socratic  discus- 
sions with  fictions,  happily  and  humorously  explained; 
all  the* solemn  grandeur  of  her  tejnples,  the  learned 
gloom  of  her  porticoes,  and  the  costly  magnificence 
of  her  theatrical  representatious ;  these  all  derived 
their  vitality  and  character  from  the  grand  principle 
by  which  each  man  was  tauglit  to  hold,  and  contribute 
to  the  existence  of  one  common  good,  in  the  well- 
being  of  which  his  own  self-preservation  was  con- 
cerned. Poetry,  literature,  and  art  were  not,  as 
amongst  so  many  modern  states,  the  profession  of  a 
few  persons  of  half-recognised  standinf: .  whose  know- 
ledge, by  being  imperfectly  imparted  at  certain  prices, 
may  atone  for  the  ignorance  and  tastslessness  of  a 
listless  aristocracy.  The  threadbare  boorishuess  of 
Sparta,  with  her  contracted  policy  and  soul  fatiguing 
discipline,  falls  into  the  shade,  in  this  respect,  befort^ 
the  poetical  people  of  Athens. 

To  the  same  pulj'.ic  spii-it  was  it  Jue,  that  works  of 
art  were  not  txecnted  for  the  limited  purpose  of  adorn- 
ing the  staircases  of  the  nobility,  but  as  votive  offerings, 
or  gifts  to  the  public ;  attesting  at  once  the  liberality 
of  the  giver,  and   the  public  spirit  which   enshrined 


\mA 


860 


GREAT  CITIES  OP  THE  WORLD. 


each  pet  gem  of  art  in  the  sanctuaries  of  the  gods, 
or.  in  the  -yublic  buildings  whore  every  man  might 
admire,  as  he  traflBcked  in  the  ordinary  business  of 
life. 

"The  great  masters,"  says  our  lately-quoted  autho- 
rity, "  were  chiefly  in  the  employ  of  the  public.  The 
community,  either  directly  or  through  its  leaders,  as 
wc  learn  from  the  instance  of  Pericles,  either  ordered 
works  of  art,  or  bought  them  ready  made,  to  ornament 
the  erty  and  public  buildings.  We  have  distinct  evidence 
that  the  great  masterpieces  of  PLiuias,  Praxiteles,  and 
Lysippus,  had  this  origin.  Thus  were  produced  the 
Jupiter  of  Olympia,  th .  Minerva  Polias  at  xVthens,  by 
Phidia*  ;  the  Yenns  at  Cnidus  and  at  Cos,  by  Praxiteles ; 
the  Colossus  of  Rhodes,  by  Lysippus.  Yet  numerous 
as  were  the  applications  of  cities,  the  immense  multitude 
of  staliues  could  not  be  accounted  for.  unless  the  piety 
and  vanity  of  individuals  had  come  to  their  assistance. 

^  fhe  iirst  assisted  by  the  votive  offerings,  of  which 
all  the  celebrated  temples  were  full.  These  were  not 
always  works  of  ;irt,  being  as  often  mere  costly  presents. 
Y''et  the  collection  of  statues  and  pictures  which  belonged 
to  those  temples,  consisted,  for  the  most  part,  of  votive 
offerings.  But  these  v;ere  as  often  the  tribute  of 
gratitude  from  whole  cities  as  from  individuals." 

"  Painting,  from  its  \ery  nature,  seems  to  have  been 
more  designed  for  private  use.  Yet,  in  the  age  of 
Pericles,  when  the  great  masters  in  this  art  appeared 
in  Athens,  it  was  hardly  less  publicly  applied  than  the 
art  of  sculpture.  It  was  in  the  public  porticoes  and 
temples  that  Polygnotus,  Micon,  and  others,  exhibited 
the  productions  of  their  genius.     No  trace  is  to  bo 


,-«i&»'iWm*/ 


ATHENS. 


361 


found  of  celebrated  private  pictures  in  those  times. 
Yet  portrait-painting  seems  peculiarly  to  belong  to 
private  life.  This  branch  of  the  art  was  certainly 
cultivated  among  the  Greeks;  but  not  until  the  Macedo- 
nian age.  The  likenesses  of  celebrated  men  were  placed 
in  the  pictures  which  commemorated  their  actions ;  as 
that  of  Miltiades  in  the  painting  of  the  battle  in  the 
Poecilf,  or  pictured  portico  at  Athens  ;  or  the  artists 
found  a  ])hicc  for  themselves  or  their  mistresses  in  such 
public  works.  But  portrait-painting,  as  such,  did  not, 
in  fact,  flourish  till  the  times  of  Philip  and  Alexander  ; 
and  was  firnt  practised  in  the  school  of  Apolles.  When 
powerful  princes  arose,  curiosity  or  flattery  desired  to 
possess  their  likeness ;  the  artists  were  most  sure  of 
receiving  compensation  for  such  labours ;  and  private 
statues  as  well  as  pictures  began  to  grow  common, 
although,  in  most  cases,  something  of  ideal  beauty  was 
added  to  the  resemblance." 

"  So  deeply  was  the  i  lea  rooted  among  the  Greeks, 
that  the  works  of  artists  were  public,  that  it  could  not 
be  eradicated  even  by  the  profanations  of  the  Komans. 
It  was  thus  that,  by  attaining  their  proper  end,  they 
flourished  so  greatly  in  Greece.  The  works  of  art  were 
considered  as  belonging  not  to  individuals,  but  to  tbo 
cultivated  part  of  mankind.  They  should  be  a  common 
property.  Even  in  our  times,  when  individuals  are 
permitted  to  possess  them,  censure  is  incurred  if  others 
also  are  not  allowed  to  enjoy  them.  .  ,  .  How 
much  more  honoured  does  the  artist  feel,  how  much 
more  freely  does  he  breathe,  when  he  knows  that  he  is 
exerting  himself  for  a  nation  which  will  esteem  its  glory 


m 


'HMt 


,      'Hi 


■  fi 


862 


GREAT    CITIES    OP  THE   WORLD. 


increased  by  liis  works,  instead  of  toiling  for  the  money 
and  the  eaprices  of  individuals." 

A  brief  glance  at  the  literature  of  Athens  is  all  that 
our  limits  can  afford.  The  theme  is  a  noble  one,  and 
has  been  already  made  the  subject  of  so  much  criticism, 
that  we  must  fain  content  ourselves  with  a  short  sketch 
of  its  aim  and  its  effect. 

Tragedy  and  comedy,  in  their  finished  state,  derive 
tlu  *r  origiii  from  Athens.  Patriotism  nerved  and 
iipened  into  manhood  the  babe  that  Poetry  had  given 
f  the  light ;  in  tlie  hands  of  it]schylus,  the  tragic  muse 
H*;i*ode  along  in  haugl;ty  sublimity,  struggling  with  the 
words  that  could  scarce  give  expression  to  thoughts 
'rsnost  beyond  language — at  one  time  pealing  forth  the 
c,liOut  of  victory  over  the  Persian  foe,  at  another 
gloomily  bemoaning  the  destinies  impending  the  Atrean 
house,  or,  in  language  worthy  to  be  carved  on  the 
smootli  surface  of  some  lightning-rent  precipice,  descri- 
bing the  God-defying  prowess  of  the  rock-bound  Titan, 
and  rivalling  the  convulsions  of  nature  while  he  details 
them. 

In  quieter  gait  walk*  Sophocles.  His  sublimity  is 
attemp«*''ed  with  sweetness;  and  we  draw  nigh  to  his 
magm^^nce,  while  we  are  allured  by  its  solemn 
tenderne»*«.  The'^Attie  bee"  is  more  ]ovea()le  tlian 
Lis  great  predecessor — v(*t  no  less  glorious.  i 

Third  and  hist,  in  time  an-i  rank,  'rr^m  giUmg  tbut 
flighty,  ingeniou*  Eur  lee;  now  draiting  tears  by 
some  unlooked-for  ootbur,-^  of  p'^tthos,  no'**'  fiitu-rinj^ 
»#ay  his  chastened  Greek  »n  dog.n  stic  sci',Micij*m  ^mt 
casuis*^!''  selfishness.  We  lik':  Euripides,  we  adrwiro 
Ja-im  som^siimes — Imt  tli»M-e  praise  must  end. 


ATHENS. 


863 


What  shall  "we  say  of  dear,  wicked,  scandalous 
Aristophanes,  with  his  "screaming"  parodies  of  Euri- 
pides, his  niagnifieent  llights  of  poetic  fancy — at  times 
rivalling  those  of  the  tragic  poets  tlieuiselves,  and  his 
sublime  "  putting  down"  of  Cleon  'i  Truly,  as  Mitchell 
observed,  "  Nature  luado  but  one,  and  'oroke  the  mould 
in  which  he  was  cast !"  '      ^  -        -; 

Much  complaint  has  been  made  of  the  personalities 

with  which  the  writings  of  the  comedians   teem,  and 

Aristophanes  lias  been  represented  as  a  mere  buffoon, 

in  whose  eyes  neither  the  sacredness  of  private,   nor 

the  dignity  of  public,  character  were  objects  of  respect. 

To  this  it  has   been  well  answered,  tliat  "  private  life, 

us  such,  was  never  the  subject  of  comedy,  except  so  far 

as  it  was  connected  with  the  public."     It  was  the  close 

connection  of  everv  Athenian  with  the  jiovernment  and 

politics  of  his  city,  rendering  every  man  an  item  in  the 

administering  influence  of  the  3tate,  that  rendered  him 

open  to  sucli  attacks.    Cleon's  private  vices  would  have 

formed  no  whetstone  for  the  wit  of  Aristophanes,  if 

they  had  not  been  developed  to  the  injury  of  the  public 

weal.     In  a  word,  "  whatever  excited  public  attention, 

whether   in  persons  or  in   things,  would  probably  be 

brought  on  the  stage.     The  most  powerful  demagogue, 

in  the  height  of  his  power,  did   not  escape  this  fate ; 

nay,  the  people  of  Athens  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing 

itself  personified  and  brought  upon  the  stage,  where  it 

could  laugh  at  itself  till  it  was  satisfied  with  mirth  ;  and 

the  poet  was  crowned  fur  liaving  done  so.     What  is  our 

freedom  of  the  press,  our  licentiousness  of  the  press, 

compared  with  their  freedom  and  licentiousness  of  the 

drama?" 


I   f'S'S 


864 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


But  Aristophanes  was  no  buffoon.  Like  Rabelais, 
his  closest  modern  copyist,  he  degenerated  into  coarse- 
ness, even  while  moralizing  on  the  characters  of  the 
day ;  like  him,  too,  he  was  unfortunate  in  finding 
characters  but  too  fraught  with  unwholesome  example  ; 
and  where  the  original  was  disgusting,  the  portrait 
could  hardly  be  a  graceful  one.  But  the  mind  that 
could  rival  Erapedocles  and  other  earlier  cosmogonists 
in  idealizing  a  fable  of  the  creation  of  things,  that  has 
made  the  "  clouds"  creatures  of  fairy-like  interest,  that 
read  the  loftiest  and  most  faultless  lessons  of  morality 
to  the  listless  manhood  and  degenerate  youth  of  the 
Cecropian  city, — such  a  poet  must  have  condescended 
to  ribaldry,  not  written  up  ribaldry,  for  its  own  sake. 
Furthermore,  the  popularity  of  Aristophanes,  and  his 
wondrous  influence  upon  the  political  characters  of  his 
time,  fully  prove  that  his  writings  did  not  shock  the 
modesty  of  an  Athenian  audience — if  modesty  there 
were  any — but  that  too  much  temptation  existed  in  a 
corrupt  public  taste,  to  fetter  the  mind  of  the  most 
reckless  writer  ever  known.  ■  ' 

When  a  gradual  falling  away  of  the  genuine  patriot- 
ism of  Greece  began  to  herald  her  downfa],  comedy 
took  a  corresponding  change.  Satire  became  dangerous, 
when  liberty  had  become  a  marketable  commodity,  and 
personal  invective  quailed  before  personal  means  and 
influence.  A  new,  we  may  almost  call  it,  drawing- 
room  style  of  comedy,  was  introduced,  at  the  head  of 
which  we  may  fairly  place  Menander. 

Personal  satire  and  pointed  attacks  upon  particular 
abuses  now  gave  way  to  a  subjective  style  of  poetry, 
in  which  developement  of  human  character,  less  exagge- 


ATHENS. 


865 


rated,  and  more  closely  approximating  to  the  simplicity 
of  common  life,  formed  the  leading  feature.     To  paint 
a  story  of  every  day  life,  with  a  sufficient  adherence  to 
probability  to  be  agreeable,  and  yet  sufficiently  height- 
ened to  prevent  its  degenerating  into  insipidity — and 
to  blend  moral  axioms  with  neatly-drawn  pictures  of 
characters  illustrating  their  tendency — this  was,  as  far 
as  we  may  judge  from  the  imitations  of  Terence,  the 
motive  which  actuated  the  writers  of  the  New  Comedy. 
But  whilst  we  may  gladly  admit  that  some  refinement 
in  principles,  and  some  greater  delicacy  in  language 
was  attained  by  this  class  of  writers,  it  is  certain  that 
there  was  a  corresponding,  and  more  than  equivalent 
falling  away  in  the  grand  essentials  of  wit  and  humour. 
As  well  might  we  compare  tho  slang  punning  wit  of 
George   Coleman,  junioi.    with    the   more  chastened 
sarcasm  of  a  Vanbrugh,  a  Farquhar,  or  a  Sheridan,  as 
contrast  the  productions  of  the  new  school  with  those 
of  Aristophanes.     The  fact  is,  the  drama  degenerates 
into  commonplace  when  writers  strive  to  be  merely 
natural.  To  form  a  tragedy  or  a  comedy,  human  nature 
must  be  exaggerated  or  depressed,  and  tho  measure  of 
this  exaggeration  or   depression  is  perhaps  the  best 
standard  of  fair   criticism.     Mrs.   Siddons  has  been 
known  to  abandon  many  of  her  old  "  stage  tricks," 
because,  although  natural   and  well   ;:!onceived,   they 
lowered  the  dignity  of  tragedy  into  commonplace.     In 
like  manner,  English  tragedy  has  been  cither  exagge- 
rated into  melodrama,  or  vaporized  into  dull  verbiage, 
while  comedy  and  low  farce  have  become  identical.     A 
good  play,  tragic  or  comic,  must  have  some  absardities, 
but  it  is  in  the  defining  the  limit  of  these  absurdities, 

SI* 


m6 


(IIIEAT    riTIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


nnd  subilninp  them  beneath  a  hirifi^unge  that  elevates 
their  very  improbability,  that  the  art  of  the  draroiiii^ 
poet  consists. 

But  whatever  may  be  the  inlliicnco  of  poetry  upon 
the  human  mind,  there  is  anotlier  faculty  which  is 
equally  capable  of  being  turned  to  the  best  or  the 
worst  effect,  especially  in  clticH,  namely,  Oratory.  No 
city  ever  boasted  a  school  of  elo([uence  equal  to  Athens. 
Even  our  own  statesmen  of  the  long  reign  of  George 
the  Third  scarcely  parallel  the  golden  reign  of  oratory 
at  Athens.  In  fact,  oratory  existed  at  Athens  only. 
The  quaint  proverbial  style  of  the  Lacedemonians 
might  excite  the  same  feelings  of  satisfaction  as  we 
derive  from  a  well-turned  epigram,  or  a  tart  reply  to  a 
speech  in  "the  House," — their  habit  of  saying  clever 
things  would  be  quite  as  amusing  as  any  thing  handed 
down  in  "  Joe  Miller,"  or  as  the  world-famed  Irish 
Bulls  so  often  invented  on  this  side  of  the  Channel. 
But  of  consolidaUHl  oratory,  properly  so  called,  they 
had  nono.  The  polished  sweetness,  the  gentle  grace- 
fulness, and  lively  antithesis — the  elaborate  exordium, 
the  neat  balancitig  of  the  points  at  issue,  the  collation 
and  contrast  of  contradictory  evidences,  and  the  peal 
of  eloquence  iviuding  up  the  peroration,  and  almost 
hurling  the  minds  of  the  hearers  into  acquiescence — 
the  poetical  allusion,  the  happy  blending  of  local 
associations  with  the  matter  in  hand,  the  "  wise  saws 
and  modern  instances,  ' — the  subtilties  and  delicate 
quibblinga  to  which  the  interpretation  of  a  doubtful 
laW;  or  the  varying  statements  of  witnesses  might  give 
rise,  and  the  cutting  sarcasm  with  which  these  were  in 
turn   refuted — in   a  word,  all  that  kept  the  anxious 


\ 


sti 


ATHENS. 


867 


tliousanda  of  busy  Athens  Imnging  on  the  words  of 
the  speaker — wan  wanting  in  the  oratory  of  Sparta. 
Athens  was  the  grand  school  of  eloquence,  where  even 
Cicero  was  glad  to  learn.  Let  us  glance  briefly  at  a 
few  of  her  scholars.  •     ,     .) 

Unfortunately,  wo  have  no  specimens  of  the  orations 
spoken  by  Pericles,  except  the  '  eral  panegyric 
preserved  by  Thucydides  in  his  '  book,  and  this 

must  be  regarded  rather  as  the  ff  -  ♦  of  what  was 

spoken  over  the  bodies  of  the  slain  tuan  a-  the  precise 
words  of  the  speech.  But  the  concurrent  voije  of 
antiquity  pronounces  decisively  in  favour  of  his  won- 
drous power  of  arresting  the  attention  by  a  sweetness 
of  language  almost  unparalleled,  although  blended  with 
the  happiest  and  most  searching  touches  of  delicate 
irony.  As  the  polished  gentleman  and  statesman,  he 
is,  perhaps,  the  most  favourable  specimen  history 
has  recordea  in  Athenian  society ;  un  easy  urbanity, 
mingled  with  firmness ;  a  scholarliko  taste,  unsullied 
by  conventional  selfishness ;  and  a  business-like  attention 
to  matters  of  finance  and  speculation,  uncorrupted  by 
sordid  meanness,  or  spiritless  economy — such  were  the 
qualities  which  adorned  Pericles  and  Atiiens  at  the 
same  time.  It  is  even  probable  that  these  very 
qualities  furnish  the  best  reason  for  our  having  no 
extant  productions  of  this  great  statesman,  lie  spoke, 
doubtless,  extemporaneously,  and  antiquity  records  no 
regular  staff  of  reporters  at  Athens.  And  yet,  how 
much  better  must  have  been  the  fresh  enthusiasm  of 
Pericles,  than  the  tedious  rhetoric  and  sophistic  twaddle 
of  such  declamation  writers  as  Isocrates !  .      ^ 

Among  the  Greek  orators  whose  wiitings  have  been 


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V 


MS 


GREAT   CITIKS   OF   THK   WORLD. 


handed  down  to  us,  partly  in  a  complete,  partly  in  a 
fragmentary  state,  Lysijis  is  the  earliest  in  chronological 
order.  Although  Lis  orations  on  private  cases  are 
perhaps  less  interesting  than  his  public  ones,  yet  they 
appear  to  be  the  best.  A  shrewd  discernment  of  the 
various  points  of  evidence,  a  vivid  perception  of  the 
best  means  of  upsetting  a  fallacy  or  dogma,  and  a  level 
dignity  of  language,  at  once  free  from  plebeian  simplicity 
or  pedantic  ostentation,  render  these  speeches  models 
of  judicial  oratory  which  few  can  surpass.  Many  of 
his  orations,  moreover,  are  especially  valuable  in  an 
antiquarian  point  of  view,  although  they  at  the  same 
time  present  a  melancholy  picture  of  social  abuse  in 
respect  of  the  burthens  laid  by  the  state  on  the  fortunes 
of  the  wealthier  citizens. 

"Vast  sums  of  money  were  collected  by  forcible 
contribution,  and  laid  out  in  ministering  to  the  amuse- 
ments of  the  people:  the  services  called  uitwpyiai 
iyxyxxiat  provided  games  and  spectacles,  and  theatrical 
entertainments,  in  which  troops  of  singers  and  dancers 
displayed  their  musical  skill,  and  performed  their 
evolutions.  The  writings  of  Lysias  are  conceived  in 
the  spirit  of  determined  republicanism  ;  a  spirit  which 
delighted  in  arbitrary  confiscation,  and  which  seized 
on  the  fortunes  of  the  rich  to  replenish  that  exchequer, 
from  which  the  amusements  of  the  mob  were  to  be 
supplied :  hence  arose,  on  one  hand,  the  most  anxious 
desire  to  conceal  wealth,  and  on  the  other,  unwearied 
acuteness  in  detecting  it.  This  introduced  bribery  and 
falsehood  into  the  Athenian  courts  of  justice :  while 
those,  whose  opulence  was  proved,  and  who  were 
consequently  plundered,    endeavoured    to    indemnify 


■^,, 


ATHENS. 


their  own  losses  by  the  corrupt  administration  of  the 
city  magistracies.  In  short,  the  speeches  of  this  orator 
display  such  a  system  of  public  and  private  rapine  as 
may  diminish  our  admiration  of  Athenian  government, 
and  teach  us  to  receive  with  caution  the  praises  which 
are  lavished  on  the  advantages  of  Athenian  liberty." 

Isieus,  Andocides,  and  several  others,  whose  works 
are  known  to  us  chiefly  in  a  fragmentary  form,  present 
various  examples  of  oratory  more  or  less  mingled  with 
judicial  and  political  archseology.  There  is  much  to 
admire  in  Andocides.  Charming  purity  of  language) 
headlong  vehemence  in  his  onslaughts  upon  an  opponent; 
and  a  finished  working  up  of  arguments,  make  us  regret 
that  this  orator's  works  are  not  more  popularly  known 
at  the  present  day. 

And  now  we  come  to  the  orator  of  nations,  Demos- 
thenes. How  great  were  the  vicissitudes  of  his  life ! 
and  how  fraught  with  example  and  interest !  With  our 
perception  of  the  vanity  that  actuated  some  movements 
of  his  life,  of  the  vacillation  that  may  have  once  cht 
twice  defamed  his  fair  renown,  still  the  name  of  Demos- 
thenes is  a  dearly-cherished  one  in  the  heart  of  every 
lover  of  eloquence  and  patriotism.  Heeren's  sketch  of 
his  life  is  so  good  a  picture  of  the  history  of  Greece 
during  its  most  critical  period,  as  well  as  of  the  mighty 
influence  possessed  by  Demosthenes  over  the  fortunes 
of  Greece  that  no  apology  can  be  req«ired  for  trans- 
ferring it  to  our  pages : — 

"  Nothing  could  be  more  superfluous  than  the  desire 
of  becoming  the  eulogist  of  that  great  master,  whom 
the  united  voice  of  so  many  ages  has  declared  to  be 
the  first,  and  whose  panegyric,  the  only  rival  which 


870 


QREAT  GITIBS  OF  THE  WORLD. 


antiquity  had  placed  by  his  side,  has  pronounced  it  in 
a  manner  at  once  accurate  and  honourable  to  both. 

"  We  would  not  here  speak  of  Demosthenes  the  orator, 
but  of  Demosthenes  the  statesman ;  and  of  him  only  as 
far  as  the  man,  the  orator,  and  the  statesman  were  inti- 
mately combined.  His  political  principles  emanated 
from  the  depth  of  his  soul,  he  remained  true  to  his  feel- 
ings and  his  convictions,  amidst  all  changes  of  cir- 
cumstances and  all  threatening  dangers.  Hence  he 
was  the  most  powerful  of  orators;  because  with  him 
there  was  no  surrender  of  his  conviction,  no  partial 
compromise ;  in  a  word,  no  trace  of  weakness.  This  is 
the  real  essence  of  his  art ;  every  thing  else  was  but 
secondary:  and  in  this,  how  far  does  he  rise  above 
Cicero !  and  yet,  who  ever  suffered  more  severely  than 
he  for  his  greatness  ?  Of  all  political  characters,  Demos- 
thenes is  the  most  sublime  and  purely  tragic  character 
with  which  history  is  acquainted.  When,  still  trem- 
bling with  the  force  of  his  language,  we  read  his  life 
in  Plutarch,  when  we  transfer  ourselves  into  his  times 
and  his  situation,  we  are  carried  away  by  a  deeper 
interest  than  can  be  excited  by  any  hero  of  the  epic 
muse,  or  tragedy.  From  his  firpt  appearance  till  the 
moment  when  he  swallowed  p-  isr  a  the  temple,  we 
see  him  contending  against  dest.  ^,  which  seems  to 
mock  him  with  malignant  cruelty.  It  throws  him  on 
the  ground,  butinever  subd'ija  him.  What  a  crowd  of 
emotions  must  have  sinuggled  through  his  manly 
breast,  amidst  this  interchange  of  reviving  and  expiring 
hopes !  How  natural  was  it,  that  the  lines  of  melan- 
choly and  indignation,  such  as  we  yet  behold  in  his 
bust,  should  have  been  imprinted  on  his  severe  coun^ 


ATUBNS. 


871 


tenance!  Hardly  had  he  passed  the  years  of  his 
youth,  when  he  appeared,  in  his  own  behalf,  as  accuser 
of  his  faithless  guardians ;  from  whom,  however,  he  was 
able  to  rescue  only  a  small  part  of  his  patrimony.  In 
his  next  attempts,  insulted  by  the  multitude,  though 
encouraged  by  a  few  who  anticipated  his  future  great- 
ness, he  supported  an  obstinate  contest  with  himself, 
till  he  gained  the  victory  over  his  own  nature.  He 
now  appeared  once  more  as  an  accuser  in  public  prose- 
cutions, before  he  ventured  to  speak  on  the  affairs  of 
the  State.  But  in  the  very  first  of  his  public  speeches 
we  see  the  independent  statesman,  who,  without  being 
dazzled  by  a  splendid  project,  opposes  a  vast  under- 
taking. When  Philip  soon  after  displayed  his  designs 
against  Greece,  by  his  interference  in  the  Phocian  war, 
he  for  the  first  time  came  forward  against  that  prince, 
in  his  first  Philippic  oration.  From  this  period,  he  was 
engaged  in  the  great  business  of  his  life — sometimes 
as  a  counsellor,  sometimes  as  accuser,  sometimes  as  an 
ambassador — he  protected  the  independence  of  his 
country  against  the  Macedonian  policy. 

"Splendid  success  seemed  at  first  to  reward  his 
exertions.  He  had  won  a  number  of  states  for  Athens ; 
when  Philip  invaded  Greece,  he  had  succeeded,  not 
only  in  gaining  over  the  Thebans,  but  in  kindling  their 
enthusiasm,  when  the  day  of  Chaeronsea  overthrew  all 
his  hopes.  But  he  courageously  declares,  in  the  as- 
sembly of  the  people,  that  he  still  does  not  repent  of 
the  counsels  he  had  given.  An  unexpected  •  event 
changes  the  whole  aspect  of  things :  Philip  falls,  the 
victim  of  assassination ;  and  a  youth,  as  yet  but  little 
known,  is  his  successor.     Immediately  Demosthenes 


872 


GREAT  CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


# 


institutes  a  second  alliance  of  the  Greeks ;  but  Alex- 
ander suddenly  appears  before  Thebes;  the  terrible 
vengeance  which  he  here  takes  instantly  destroys  the 
league ;  Demosthenes,  Lycurgus,  and  several  of  their 
supporters  are  required  to  be  delivered  up ;  but  De- 
mades  was  at^  that  time  able  to  settle  the  difficulty,  and 
to  appease  tho  king.  His  strength  was,  therefore, 
enfeebled  as  Alexander  departed  from  Asia ;  he  begins 
to  raise  his  head  once  more,  when  Sparta  attempts  to 
throw  off  the  yoke ;  but  under  Antipater  he  is  over- 
powered. Yet  it  was  about  the  time  that,  by  the  most 
celebrated  of  his  orations,  he  gained  the  victory  over 
the  most  eloquent  of  his  adversaries,  and  ^schines  | 
was  forced  to  depart  from  Athens.  But  this  seems 
only  to  have  more  embittered  his  enemies,  the  leaders 
of  the  Macedonian  party;  and  they  soon  found  an 
opportunity  of  preparing  his  downfall.  When  Ilarpa-  ' 
lus,  a  fugitive  from  the  army  of  Alexander,  came  with 
his  treasures  to  Athens,  and  the  question  arose,  whether 
he  Would  be  permitted  to  remain  there  ?  Demosthenes 
«was  accused  of  having  been  corrupted  by  his  money, 
at  least  to  be  silent.  This  was  sufficient  to  procure 
the  imposition  of  c  fine ;  and  as  this  was  not  paid  he 
was  thrown  into  prison.  From  thence  he  succeeded  in 
escaping ;  but  to  4he  man  who  lived  only  for  his  coun- 
try, exile  was  no  less  an  evil  than  imprisonment.  He 
resided  for  the  most  part  in  JEgina  and  at  Traezen, 
from  whence  he  looked  with  sad  eyes  towards  the  oppo- 
site shores  of  Attica.  Suddenly  and  unexpectedly  a  new 
ray  of  light  dawned  upon  him.  Tidi'  gs  were  brought 
that  Alexander  was  dead.  The  momant  of  deliverance 
seemed  at  hand ;  anxiety  pervaded  every  G  recian  state ; 


ATHENS. 


373 


fc 


the  ambassadors  of  the  Athenians  passed  through  the 
cities ;  Demosthenes  joined  himself  to  tlie  number,  and 
exerted  all  hi.s  eloquence  and  power  to  unite  them 
against  Macedon.  In  requital  for  such  services,  the 
people  decreed  his  return  ;  and  years  of  sufferings  were 
at  last  followed  by  a  day  of  exalted  compensation.  A 
galley  was  sent  to  iEgina  to  bring  the  advocate  of 
liberty.  All  Athens  was  in  motion ;  no  magistrate,  no 
priest  remained  in  the  city,  when  it  was  reported  that 
Demosthenes  was  advancing  from  the  Piraeus.  Over- 
powered by  his  feelings,  he  extended  his  arms  and 
declared  himself  happier  than  Alcibiades ;  for  his  coun- 
trymen had  recalled  him,  not  by  compulsion,  but  from 
choice.  It  was  a  momentary  glimpse  of  the  sun,  which 
still  darker  clouds  were  soon  to  overshadow.  Antipater 
and  Craterus  were  victorious,  and  with  them  the  Mace- 
donian party  at  Athens  ;  Demosthenes  and  his  friends 
were  numbered  among  the  accused,  and  at  the  instiga- 
tion of  Demades  were  condemned  to  die.  They  had 
already  withdrawn  in  secret  from  the  city ;  but  where 
could  they  find  a  place  of  refuge  ?  Hyperides,  with 
two  others,  fled  to  ^gina,  and  took  refuge  in  the  tem- 
ple of  Ajax.  In  vain  !  they  were  torn  away,  dragged 
before  Antipater,  and  executed.  Demosthenes  had 
escaped  to  the  island  Caluria,  in  the  ^cinity  of  Trsczen, 
and  taken  refuge  in  the  temple  of  Neptune.  It  was  to 
no  purpose  that  Archias,  the  satellite  of  Antipater, 
urp;ed  him  to  surrender  himself,  under  promise  of  par- 
dor.  He  pretended  he  wished  to  write  something,  bit 
the  quill,  and  swallowed  the  poison  containod  in  it. 
He  then  veiled  himself,  reclining  his  head  backwards, 
till  he  felt  the  operation  of  the  poison.     *  0  Neptune  !' 

m 


V 


874 


GREAT    CITIES    OF   THE   WOULD. 


he  exclaimed,  '  they  have  defiled  thy  temple ;  but 
honouring  thee,  I  will  leave  it  while  yet  living.'  But 
he  sank  before  the  altar,  and  a  sudden  death  sepa- 
rated him  from  the  world,  which  after  the  fall  of  his 
country  contained  no  happiness  for  him.  Where  shall 
we  find  a  character  of  more  grandeur  and  purity  than 
that  of  Demosthenes  ?" 

This  masterly  historical  sketch  may  be  fairly  brought 
forward  as  an  ins^.ance  of  the  capability  of  eliciting  the 
state  of  the  times  from  the  writings  of  a  single  author. 
Indeed,  it  is  doubtful  whether  more  real  history  may 
not  be  learnt  from  the  practised  and  systematic  obser- 
vations of  a  single  politician,  than  from  a  mass,  how- 
ever copious,  of  conflicting  statements  and  second-hand 
descriptions.  The  great  spirits  of  the  world  are  so 
blent  with  the  material  mass  they  serve  to  illumine, 
that,  viewed  apart  from  their  existence,  one  whole  con- 
ception of  the  facts  of  history  can  only  present  a  shape- 
less and  confused  void.  It  is  impossible  to  write  the 
history  of  the  times  of  a  great  man  apart  from  his  own 
life :  he  is  the  vital  principle  from  whence  the  lesser 
importance  of  "other  men  radiates  in  difierent  degrees 
and  directions,  it  is  his  influence  that  gives  momentum 
to  the  gravitating  particles  of  humanity,  that  directs 
the  whole  living  world  to  one  centre,  from  which  it 
cannot  diverge  but  to  their  own  destruction. 

It  is  melancholy  to  contemplate  the  downfall  of 
Athenian  patriotism  during  the  eventful  career  of 
Demosthenes.  The  exaggeration  of  democracy  had 
proceeded  too  far,  and  Athens  had  absolutely  been 
enslaved  by  lior  own  liberty.  Moreover,  a  taste  for 
private  elegance  and  luxury,  had  superseded  the  noble 


H 


ATHENS. 


876 


liberalitj  that  had  once  decorated  the  Acropolis.  But 
^vo  have  ah'cady  dwelt  long  on  this  sad  subject,  and  a 
inoro  pleasing  ouc  calls  away  our  attention — the  philo- 
sophy  ot*  Athens. 

Socrates  and  Plato  are  two  names  associated  so  much 
with  fantastical  theories  and  speculations,  that  one  is 
almost  afraid  of  saying  any  thing  about  them,  for  fear 
of  falling  into  equal  incongruities.  Socrates  wrote 
nothing,  at  least,  nothing  that  appears  to  have  desoen* 
ded  to  posterity ;  but  his  conversation  and  habits  have 
been  handed  down  to  us  by  two  authors,  who  have  little 
in  common,  Xenophon  and  Plato ;  while  the  latter  of 
these  is  not  even  consistent  with  himself  in  his  desorip- 
tion  of  his  favourite  friend  and  master.  In  the  writings 
of  Xenophon,  some  of  which  seem  to  exhibit  fair  speci- 
mens of  the  table-talk  of  Socrates,  we  are  distinctly 
told  that  Socrates  studied  matters  of  ordinary  life, 
using  the  most  familiar  illustrations,  without  troubling 
himself  about  physics  or  meteorology.  In  Plato,  So- 
crates appears  as  a  subtle  dialectician,  fresh  in  all  the 
quirks  and  by-play  of  the  Sophists,  and  discussing  the 
Pythagorean  and  other  earlier  cosmogOD'cs,  without, 
however,  expressing  any  thing  like  a  definite  pinion  on 
the  subject.  Furthermore,  was  Socrates  the  man  of 
fancy,  which  the  Phaedrus  and  Symposium  would  induce 
us  to  believe  ?  It  is  at  all  times  difficult  to  tell  when  Plato 
supposes  Socrates  to  mean  what  he  is  saying ;  in  some 
cases  we  should  almost  feel  a  doubt  whether  he  attached 
any  meaning  whatever  to  what  he  says. 

Viewing  the  character  of  Socrates  apart  from  the 
frothy  verbiage  with  which  Plato  has  at  times  obscured 
it,  he  appears  as  a  man  uniting  a  singular  keenness  of 


876 


GREAT  CITI£S  OF  THE  WURLD. 


perception  with  an  affable,  yet  artificial  show  of  sim- 
plicitj.  Of  his  high  talents  there  can  be  no  doubt ; 
but  he  spoke  too  much.  A  disposition  to  sift  and  ex- 
pose the  follies  of  other  pcoplo,  especially  if  one  succeeds 
in  doing  so,  is  seldom  popular,  and  often  proves  dan- 
*gerous  to  its  possessor.  No  better  illustration  of  this 
can  be  quoted  than  the  heroic  death  of  Socrates.  He 
was  a  martyr,  not  to  the  truth,  but  to  the  vanity  of 
those  who  could  not  bear  the  discovery  that  they  were 
fools. 

We  may  pardon  Plato'  his  misrepresentations,  when 
we  consider  the  charming  dress  in  which  he  has  clothed 
them ;  and  his  historical  deficiencies  will  be  atoned  by 
the  elegance  of  his  language,  the  graceful  play  of  his 
wit,  and  the  imaginative  variety  of  his  episodes.  At 
the  same  time,  I  must,  after  constant  reading  and 
comparison  of  the  whole  of  Plato's  writings,  express 
my  unqualified  denial  of  any  scheme  that  professes  to 
unite  and  reconcile  their  tenor  as  a  whole.  If  Plato 
intended  them  to  be  such,  he  has  signally  failed  in  the 
execution  of  his  design;  as  the  inconsistencies  are 
tremendous.  And  how  could  it  be  otherwise  ?  Could 
an  eclectic  philosophy,  which  culled  the  flowers  from 
every  scholastic  bower,  which  at  one  time  revelled  in 
the  cosmogonical  hypotheses  of  the  Pythagoreans ;  at 
another,  flitted  to  and  fro  in  the  dazzling  midday  sun 
of  Parmenidean  atoms — could  a  philosophy,  which 
talked  of  every  art  and  science,  which  seldom  concluded 
an  argument  in  such  a  manner  as  to  designate  the 
party  convinced,  and  where  absurdities  were  sometimes 
balanced  on  a  needle's  point  of  accuracy — could  sucli 
a  farrago  of  thoughts,  hypotheses,  refutations,  and  con- 


n 


;h 


\i 


ATHENiS. 


879 


tradiotions,  over  possess,  ever  assumo  a  claim  to  definite 
Bvatom  ?     1  am  not  of  the  number  who  can  believe  so. 

It  is,  perhaps,  with  the  bias  of  a  prescribed  course 
of  education,  that  I  urn  inclined  to  prefer  Aristotle  to 
Plato.  His  writings  are  immeasurably  lesH  pleasing, 
but  they  are  sounder  and  better  food  for  the  mind. 
Concentration  of  the  mind  upon  the  subject  in  view, 
accuracy,  not  far-fetched  whimsicality,  of  illustration, 
and  a  more  systematic  technology,  are  pre-eminent 
advantages  which  the  philosopher  of  Stageira  possesses 
over  the  Athenian.  In  Plato,  we  too  often  tickle  our 
appetite  with  the  ices  and  champagne  of  a  pic-nic  lunch. 
In  Aristotle,  we  find  a  dinner  that  whets  our  appetite 
with  a  healthy  desire  for  eating  more.  Plato  was  a 
gentleman-philosopher ;  perhaps  to  Socrates  what  Bos- 
well  was  to  Johnson.  Aristotle  was  a  philosopher  by 
profession,  and  understood  his  profession  well.  Let 
no  one  think  I  dislike  Plato.  It  is  because  I  love  his 
writings,  that  I  am  tired  of  the  theories  which  have 
been  invented  to  excuse,  sometimes  to  make  virtues  of 
their  worst  faults. 

I  cannot  make  a  more  natural  transition  than  from 
Athenian  philosophy  to  Athenian  Christianity ;  and  a 
brief  consideration  of  the.  state  of  this  most  interesting 
city  at  the  time  of  St.  Paul's  visit  will  form  a  fitting 
conclusion  to  our  notice. 

Athens  was  literally  full  of  slirincs  and  temples  in 
honour  either  of  their  own  gods,  or  of  those  wliom  they 
had  naturalized.  Paul's  "spirit  was  stirred  in  him 
when  he  saw  the  city  full  of  idols,"  and  ho  began  to 
enter  into  disputes  both  with  the  Jews  and  the  prose- 
lytes.    The  same  bigotry  that  liad  formerly  assailed 


380 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WOULD. 


Socrates,  now  became  the  lot  of  Paul,  and  he  was 
reviled  with  no  small  bitterness  as  "  a  setter  forth  of 
strange  gods."  When  ho  appeared  before  the  court 
of  Areopagus,  and  was  questioned  touching  the  "  new 
doctrine,"  he  made  the  celebrated  defence  which  has 
been  so  often  quoted  as  a  proof  of  his  temperate  judg- 
ment as  well  as  his  religious  zeal.  Appealing  even 
to  their  own  Pagan  literature,  he  taught  them  that  in 
one  only  God,  *'  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being," 
exhorted  them  to  repentance,  and  set  forth  the  awful 
responsibilities  of  the  resurrection  and  final  judgment 
of  men.  But  the  babbling  people  of  Athens,  who  had 
sat  trifling  while  a  Demosthenes  spoke,  had  no  ears  evqn 
for  the  Great  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles.  Some  mocked 
the  solemn  warning,  others  promised  to  consider  it, 
and  "so  Paul  departed  from  among  them."  -* 

Who  cannot  tell  what  followed  ?  Has  the  same 
scourge  that  has  laid  waste  almost  every  city  we  hav« 
described,  spared  the  proud  capitol  of  Gecropia  ?  Her 
ruins  tell  the  same  story  of  the  fall  of  Idolatry,  and  the 
spreading  abroad  of  everlasting  and  immutable  truth 
with  a  silent  eloquence  that  is  made  appalling  by  their 
magnificence. 


■  U:  . 


r  \ 


CORINTH. 


LTHOUGH  Corinth  cannot  be 
regarded  as  belonging  to  the 
number  of  those  cities  ivhich 
have  Avrought  great  changes  in 
the  history  of  the  human  race, 
and  have  left  corresponding 
memorials  attesting  the  piower 
that  must  have  wrought  those 
changes,  still,  there  is  much 
that  is  interesting  both  in  its  early  political  impor- 
tance, and  its  conspicuous  position  at  the  outset 
of  the  Peloponnesian  war.  Although  one  of  the  small- 
est states  in  Greece,  its  situation  was  commanding, 
and  its  resources  immense.  Heeren  well  remarks  : — 
"  Venice  was  never  more  flourishing,  or  more  power- 
ful, than  at  a  time  when  it  did  not  possess  a  square  mile 
on  the  continent.  Wealthy  Corinth,  more  than  four 
miles  in  extent,  lay  at  the  foot  of  a  steep  and  elevated 
hill,  on  which  its  citadel  was  built.  There  was  hardly 
a  stronger  fortress  in  all  Greece,  and  perhaps  no  spot 
afforded  a  more  splendid  prospect  than  Acrocorinthiia. 
Beneath  it  might  be  seen  the  busy  city  and  its  territory, 
with  its  temples,  its  theatres,  and  its  aqueducts.  Its 
two  harbours — Lechaeum  on  the  western  bay,  Cenchrese 
on  the  eastern,  filled  with  ships,  and  the  two  bays 
■      .'      -  (388) 


884 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


themselves,  with  the  isthmus  between  them,  were  all  in 
sight.  The  peaks  of  Helicon,  and  Parnassus  itself, 
were  seen  at  a  distance;  and  a  strong  eye  could 
distinguish,  on  the  eastern  side,  the  Acropolis  of 
Athens.  What  images  and  emotions  are  excited  by 
this  prospect !" 

With  such  advantages,  it  is  not  strange  that,  even 
at  an  early  period,  Corinth  should  have  taken  a  foremost 
position  among  the  great  cities  of  Greece.  Homer 
dignified  her,  under  her  ancient  name  of  Ephyre,  as 
the  "  opulent"  city,  and  her  fame  as  such  lasted  even 
to  the  days  of  John  Chrysostom.  Pausania.s  remarks, 
that  in  his  time  "  none  of  the  ancient  Corinthians  dwelt 
there,  but  colonists  sent  thither  by  the  Romans.  And 
the  cause  of  this,"  continues  the  same  antiquarian, 
*'  was  the  Achaean  synod ;  for  the  Corinthians  took 
part  in  this  with  the  other  states,  in  the  war  against 
the  Romans,  in  obedience  tc  the  suggestions  of  Critolaus, 
who,  having  been  appointed  general  of  the  Achaeans, 
persuaded  both  the  Achaeans  and  the  greater  part  of 
those  without  Peloponnesus  to  revolt.  When  the 
Romans  had  prevailed  in  the  war,  they  took  away  the 
arms  from  the  other  Greeks,  and  stripped  all  the 
fortified  cities  of  their  walls."  We  shall  hereafter 
revert  to  the  amusing  stupidity  of  the  valiant  but 
tasteless  consul,  Mummius,  upon  this  occasion,  merely 
observing  that  the  Corinth  of  St.  Paul's  time  musi 
subsequently  be  regarded  ratlier  as  a  Roman  colony 
than  a  Grecian  city. 

The  quaint  Horatian  epithet,  "  Corinth  of  the  two 
seas,"  neatly  describes  its  position  between  the  Ionian 
and  ^gean  seas,  a  position  which  was  valuable  in  a 


CORfNTH. 


985 


commorcial  point  of  view.  In  consequence  of  the 
difficulty  of  woiitlioiin^  the  western  ptoraontorj  of 
Mtilcn,  merehuiMiise  wus  convened  across  land  from 
8ca  to  sea,  tlie  city  of  Corinth  thus  becoming  an 
immediMtc  moans  of  comniuriicfttion  for  the  wealth  and 
wares  of  Asia  and  Italy.  Its  traffic  from  north  to 
south  was  filially  re:i;ly  and  extensive.  Natural 
difficulties,  presentcMl  by  the  rocky  and  stubborn  soil, 
iVusti-ated  the  atteui|)t  made  to  form  a  canal  through 
the  i.sthinus  ;  but  at  one  period  the  Corinthians  used  to 
haul  the  galleys  across,  from  sea  to  sea,  on  vast  trucks 
or  sledges.  Nor  were  the  Corinthians  less  happy  in 
the  employment  than  in  the  acquisition  of  gain: 
liberality  and  taste  flistin:iuished  their  public  works 
and  private  expenditure,  arid  at  the  time  when  Corinth 
fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Kornans,  few  richer  or  nobler 
prizes  could  have  hro.u  iivsired,  even  by  the  insatiate 
cupidity  of  a  Verres. 

The  popular  origin  of  Corinth  betrays  the  usual 
attempts  to  connect  its  earlier  dynasties  with  the  royal 
houses  of  mythic  history.  Sisyphus,  Bellerophon,  and 
many  other  heroes  of  aneicnt  tragedy,  appear  among 
the  list  of  its  soverei;:!;ns,  and  the  memory  of  these 
departed  monarehs  wns  preserved  in  the  groves  which 
adjoined  its  precinct.  But  one  curious  point  in  its 
ancient  history,  deserves  especial  notice,  as  furnishing 
an  historical  parallel  to  the  half-mythical  history  of 
early  Athens. 

When  the  grand  movement  of  the  northern  tribes 
brought  the  Dorians  and  Heracleids  in  one  vast  troop 
upon  the  less  hardy  states  of  the  Morea,  the  descendants 
of  Sisyphus,  who  had  already  been  tributary  tQ  tbo 


88B 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


sovereigns  of  Argos  and  Mycenae,  abdicated  the  erovrn 
in  favour  of  Aletes,  a  descendant  of  Hercules,  whose 
lineal  descendants  occupied  the  throne  of  Corinth  for 
five  generations,  at  the  expiration  of  which  time  the 
throne  passed  into  the  family  of  the  Bacchiadse,  who 
retained  it  for  a  like  period. 

And  now  came  a  political  change,  analogous  to  that 
which  substituted  Medon,  the  son  of  Codrus,  as  archon, 
or  chief  magistrate,  at  Athens.  While  the  prestige  in 
favour  of  the  old  royal  family  was  retained,  an  aristo- 
cratic system  took  the  place  of  the  monarchical ;  and, 
although  the  chief  power  remained  vested  in  the  hands 
of  the  Bacchiadee,  they  formed  a  staff  of  civil  magis- 
trates probably  with  some  power  of  mutual  self-control, 
in  lieu  of  a  patriarchal,  yet  absolute  government  by 
'kings.  In  the  year  629  b.  c,  Cypselus,  a  man  of 
unbounded  spirit  and  ambition,  succeeded  in  expelling 
the  Bacchiadse,  and  in  establishing  himself  in  a  firm 
tyranny.  Many  were  the  cruelties  which  befell  the 
hapless  descendants  of  Bacchis.  Death  or  exile  made 
as  sure  havoc  among  the  relics  of  the  old  royal  family 
of  Corinth  as  among  the  offshoots  of  Louis  the  Sixteenth. 
Among  the  most  distinguished  exiles  was  Demaratus, 
the  father  of  Lucumo,  or  Tarquinius  Priscus,  king  of 
Borne. 

But  whatever  were  the  crimes  of  Cypselus — crimes 
which  ambition  and  the  passion  for  gain  unfortunately 
associate  with  the  history  of  almost  every  nation, 
ancient  or  modern — it  cannot  be  denied  that  he  was  a 
printre  of  much  tact  and  ability.  Corinth  had  always  . 
been  renowned  for  the  extent  and  prosperity  of  her 
colonial  isifluence:  and  Cypselus  was  not  impolitio 


f 


fV 


CORINTH. 


887 


^  enough  to  neglect  so  important  an  item  in  the  political 
Bcheme  of  his  dominion.  Ambracia,  Anactorium,  and 
Leucas,  were  added  to  the  colonies  already  possessed 
by  the  Corinthians. 

Among  the  seven  "wise  men"  of  Greece,  Periander, 
the  son  and  successor  of  Cypselus,  has  unaccountably 
obtained  a  place.  Murder,  even  within  the  recesses 
of  his  own  family;  tyranny,  the  most  arbitrary  and 
fickle ;  and  other  crimes  too  revolting  to  mention, 
render  the  name  of  this  prince  pre-eminently  con- 
temptible. An  utter  want  of  natural  feeling,  blended 
with  a  weakness  that  hindered  his  resolute  perse- 
verance in  the  crimes  he  instigated  and  abetted,  IcuiVe 
the  memory  of  Periander  nought  but  a  record  of 
vicious  inability  and  maudlin  brutishness.  It  was  by 
his  cruelties  that  the  Corcyreans,  stung  by  his  unnatural 
treatment  of  his  son  Lycophron,  and  his  subsequent 
tyranny  over  themselves,  were  driven  to  revolt ;  and 
the  result,  shown  in  the  earliest  naval  engagement 
ever  fought,  proved  the  active  Corcyreans  had  learned 
all  that  their  mother-state  could  teach  them. 

I  have,  in  my  remarks  on  Athens,  alluded  to  the 
mischievous  influence  of  the  ^Peloponnesian  war  upon 
the  whole  of  the  Grecian  states.  Corinth  took  a 
forward  part  in  this  unfortunate  si  'uggle,  and  became 
the  most  important  enemy  to  Athens.  Repeated  pro- 
vocations, first  arising  from  the  aid  rendered  by  the 
Athenians  to  their  jSIegarean  neighbours;  next,  by 
their  alliance  with  Corcyra;  and  finally,  by  their 
treatment  of  Potidsea,  incited  them  to  side  with  the 
Spartans — a  conduct  for  which  the  alleged  treatment 
of  their  allies  seemed  to  furnish  ample  excuse.     Their 


888 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLn. 


enterprise  at  sea,  althoiip^h  at  first  inadequate  to  with- , 
stand  the  better  discipline  of  the  Athenian  navy,  event- 
ually proved  a  match  for  their  practised  enemies,  and 
not  only  obtained  success  for  themselves,  but  likewise 
secured  it  to  the  Syracusans  on  a  subsequent  occasion. 

After  the  battle  of  Amphipolis,  when  hostilities 
seemed  to  be  coming  to  a  close,  the  Corinthians, 
justly  aggravated  by  the  selfish  conduct  of  the  Lace- 
demonians, who  had  made  an  exclusive  treaty  with 
Athens,  without  the  slightest  reference  to  the  interest 
of  their  allies,  joined  the  league  formed  by  Elis,  Man- 
tinea,  and  Argos,  with  a  view  to  the  mutual  protection 
of  their  rights  and  privileges.  But,  finding  the  Boeo- 
tians unwilling  to  join  the  confederacy,  they  changed 
their  line  of  politics,  and  again  associated  themselves 
with  Sparta. 

During  the  hostilities  waged  between  the  Spartans 
and  Argives,  the  value  of  the  Corinthian  power  was 
felt,  especially  in  their  active  co-operation  with  Gylip- 
pus  for  the  recovery  of  Syracuse,  much  of  the  success 
of  that  attempt  being  due  to  the  conduct  and  valour 
of  Aristo,  the  most  able  admiral  of  the  Corinthian 
navy. 

But  when  the  states  of  Greece  began  to  exemplify 
the  truth  of  the  old  adage  respecting  the  strength  of 
unity,  when  intestine  divisions  were  gradually  sapping 
the  better  feelings  of  mutual  confidence  and  good-will, 
and  substituting  an  arbitrary  and  irritable  state  of 
dissension,  Athens  lay  at  the  mercy  of  its  opponents, 
and  the  Corinthians  urged  the  Lacedemonians  to 
destroy  that  city  which  had  been  so  unjust  an  enemy 
to  their  own  colonies,  and  so  proud  and  uncontrolled 


COKINTH. 


889 


a  rival  lo  Spuria.  But  the  memory  of  Marathon  was 
not  yet  effaced.  The  proud  stand  made  by  one  state 
in  its  youth  and  vigour,  against  the  common  enemy  of 
all  Greece,  remained  in  all  the  glory  of  heroic  renown ; 
even  the  jealous  Spartans  respected  the  declining  and 
tottering  state  of  that  city  that  had  once  stood  forth 
alone  as  the  champion  against  the  Persian  invader. 
Dissatisfied  and  disappointed,  the  Corinthians  gradually 
began  to  forsake  their  Spartan  allies,  and  even  became 
creatures  of  the  Persian  satrap,  Tithraustes,  whose 
sovereign  was  then  at  war  with  Sparta. 

After  tlie  defeat  they  sustained  at  the  battle  of 
Coronea,  the  aristocracy,  pressed  by  the  difficulties 
which  surrounded  them  at  home  and  abroad,  began 
to  think  of  deserting  the  Boeotians,  Argives,  and 
Athenians,  and  again  uniting  themselves  to  their  old 
associates.  But  this  oft-attempted  trimming  in  policy 
proved  a  signal  failure.  The  confederate  states, 
already  smarting  under  the  consequences  of  defeat, 
and  dreading  the  detachment  of  so  important  an  ally, 
incited  the  leaders  of  the  democratic  party  to  massacre 
the  aristocracy  of  Corinth.  As  the  Danes  were  mur- 
dered on  the  festival  of  St.  Brice,  so  were  the  noblest 
and  best  inhabitants  of  Corinth  slaughtered,  while 
unarmed  and  defenceless,  during  a  day  of  public 
festivity ;  some  sought  safety  in  flight,  but  the  demo- 
cratic party  remained  in  the  ascendant,  and  resolved 
upon  uniting  Corinth  to  Argos,  so  as  to  form  but  one 
state.  Struggle  upon  struggle  followed,  and  found 
the  Corinthians  alternately  worsted  and  victorious, 
until,  harassed  by  the  protracted  conflict  of  the 
%i  83*  F 


Jon 


GREAT  CITIES  OE  THE  WORLD. 


Bceotian  war,  they  made  a  separate  treaty  with  tlie 
Thebans,  dismissing  their  Athenian  allies. 

I  have  not  space  to  detail  the  various  circumstances 
that  intervened  between  this  period  and  the  sacking  of 
Corinth,  under  Lucius  Muramius.  This  successful 
general,  who  had  worked  his  way  to  honours  from  an 
humble  station,  was  much  more  capable  of  beating  the 
enemy  than  taking  care  of  the  spoils.  If  we  may 
believe  Yelleius,  Mummius  was  so  little  acquainted 
with  the  value  of  the  treasures  he  was  about  to  trans- 
port  to  Rome,  that  he  warned  the  carriers  that  *^  if  they 
lost  or  injured  the  pictures  and  statues,  they  should 
be  compelled  to  furnish  new  ones  !"  Mr.  Heidelberg, 
in  the  "  Clandestine  Marriage,"  could  hardly  have 
formed  a  more  enlightened  view  of  the  value  of 
antiquities.  Strabo  goes  even  further,  asserting  that 
the  finest  paintings  were  strewn  heedlessly  on  the 
ground,  and  used  by  the  soldiers  as  dice  or  draught 
boards.  The  male  inhabitants  were  put  to  the  sword, 
the  women  and  children  sold  as  captives,  and  Corinth 
became  a  scene  of  ruin  and  desolation  rarely  surpassed 
in  the  saddest  annals  of  human  history. 

Corinth  was  destined  to  revive  again,  but  not  as  a 
Grecian  city.  It  served  as  the  seat  of  Roman  govern- 
ment for  southern  Greece,  now  called  tho  province  of 
Achaia.  In  the  time  of  Pausanias,  as  we  have  already 
stated,  its  inhabitants  had  wholly  lost  their  Grecian 
character.  This  modern  city,  moreover,  has,  in  recent 
times,  suffered  so  much  from  the  hands  of  the  Turks, 
who  have  alternately  possessed  and  lost  it,  that  it 
presents  few  indications  of  an  even  comparative  anti- 
quarian interest,  as  the  following  description,  from  the 


the 

» 

nccs 

gof 

ssful 

a  an 

;  the 

may 

nted 

rans- 

they 

tould 

berg, 

have 

e   of 

that 
the 

ught 
vord, 
rinth 
issed 

as  a 

Ivern- 
e  of 
eaJy 
jcian 
}cent 
iirks, 
at  it 
an  ti- 
ll the 


I  \ 


•    ■         couiiNTU.  898 

\. 

pen  of  an  eye-witnes.<  and  si  tulur  of  the  highest  cha- 
ructer,  will  attest :  — 

"  Tliero  uro  i'tw  i t-njiiina  of  antiquity  now  surviving 
at  Corinth.  The  Temple  of  Minerva,  of  which  a  view 
is  annexed,  i.s  one  of  the  finest.  The  traveller  wIk 
arrives  in  the  modern  village  from  Neuva,  perceives  on 
his  right  hand  five  lluted  columns,  of  a  very  ancient 
date,  which  once  formed  part  of  a  temple.  What  the 
name  of  tlint  tem[)le  was,  is  a  subject  for  conjecture 
alone.  The  ascent  of  the  hill  of  the  Acrocorinth  is 
bteep  und  dillicult.  The  iiist  gate,  which  is  approached 
by  a  tlrawhrid^e,  is  ilanked  by  an  impregnable  wall  of 
rock  on  the  right,  and  by  urtificial  outworks  on  the 
left.  From  this  gate,  a  road  leads  to  a  hill  ov  the 
south-wePt,  in  form  like  a  truncated  cone,  upon  which 
is  a  fortress:  it  is  called  I'ente  Skouphia.  Proceeding 
upwards  towards  the  summit  of  the  Acrocorinth,  we 
enter  a  semicircular  battery,  and  after  seventy  paces 
another  gate,  defended  by  artillery  ;  within  it  is  the 
steep,  rocky  fortress  on  the  southern  crest  of  the  Acro- 
corinth. The  eastern  wall  of  this  enclosure  is  strength- 
ened by  four  square  towers,  and  the  angles  are  formed 
with  ancient  polygonal  masonry ;  after  a  little  more 
than  a  hundre<l  paces,  wo  cntor  a  third  gate,  on  the 
rigl'.t  of  which  is  a  square  tower  of  Pelasgic  archi- 
tecture, by  which  wo  pass  into  the  large  enclosure, 
which  comprehends  in  its  circuit  the  tvTo  northern 
crestsi  of  the  Acrocoi  inth,  on  the  eastern  or  higher  of 
which  are  the  remains  of  the  ancient  temple  of  Venus, 
on  the  site  of  which  a  mosijue  now  stands.  This  large 
enclosure  seems  to  be  comparatively  easy  of  access, 
and  has  been  entered  by  a  besieging  force  along  a  path 


894 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


leading  between  the  two  crests,  of  which  we  have 
spoken ;  and  by  a  well-concerted  attack  at  different 
points  might,  perhaps,  be  surprised,  and  could  not 
easily  be  defended,  on  account  of  its  vast  extent.  If 
the  eastern  crest,  which  commands  the  whole  citadel, 
were  walled  into  a  separate  enclosure,  it  would  seem 
almost  impregnable.  The  large  enclosure  resembles  a 
town ;  it  contains  many  houses,  cisterns,  churches,  and 
mosques, — all  which  are  now  in  ruins.  There  is  a 
fountain  in  this  enclosure,  to  the  east  of  the  southern 
crest  of  it ;  it  is  approached  by  a  descent  on  a  subter- 
ranean slope,  which  is  nine  feet  broad,  and  seems  to 
have  been  covered  with  marble  steps.  The  water  ia 
contained  in  a  rectangular  basin,  at  the  termination  of 
the  slope :  above  the  water,  the  rock  is  hewn  into  an 
architectural  form,  resembling  the  facade  of  a  small 
temple :  it  consists  of  a  tympanum,  supported  by  an 
architrave  resting  upon  two  antse,  and  a  pilaster  in  the 
centre  of  them  :  above  the  tympanum  there  is  an  arched 
vault.  On  the  rock,  near  the  water,  are  inscribed  com- 
memorations of  vows  offered  in  ancient  times  in  this 
place,  which  was  probably  known  in  the  earliest  days 
of  Corinth  by  the  name  of  the  fountain  of  Peirenc." 

,  Several  fountains,  however,  bear  this  name,  hut 
Wordsworth  thinks  that  the  Peirene,  at  which  the 
winged  horse  Pegasus  was  caupfht,  while  drinkin;r,  by 
Bellerophon,  was  the  "source  which  springs  from  the 
lock  on  the  summit  of  the  Acrocorinth,  and  tliat  jt  was 
from  this  high  point  that  he  soared  aloft  into  tlic  air." 
In  reference  to  the  device  of  the  winged  Pegasus,  so 
often  found  upon  the  coins  of  Connth  and  her  columns, 
the  same   scholar  elegantly  observes; — "The  niytho- 


I 


t>Oi(lillH. 


895 


logical  anAA(^y  j^^«,>,<^u  the  horae  and  the  element  of 
water, — an  analog}^  which  show^  itsJelf  in  the  name  of 
Pegasus,  and  which  appears  in  the  activity  of  both  the 
animal  and  the  element ;  each,  in  its  own  manner, 
struggling  to  burst  from  its  confinement,  foaming  with 
restless  fury,  and,  as  it  were,  '  pawing  to  get  free,'  and 
at  other  times  bridled,  whether  by  reins  of  steel  or 
stone,  and  in  the  circumstances  that  they  both  arc  to 
man  the  means  of  conquering  distance,  and  of  con- 
versing with  things  remote, — may  have  led  to  the 
adoption  of  this  device ;  and  the  symbol  upon  theso 
coins  was,  perhaps,  intended  to  express  the  national 
sense  entertained  by  Corinth  of  the  advantage  which 
she  enjoyed  in  the  excellence  and  superabundance  of 
her  fresh  water,  an  advantage  not  possessed  in  the 
same  degree  by  any  other  maritime  city  of  Greece." 

A  road  leading  from  the  foot  of  the  citadel,  ancl 
winding  towards  the  east  through  low  shrubs  and 
quarries  of  stone,  after  a  distance  of  about  eight  miles, 
brings  us  to  the  ancient  port  of  Schoenus.  About  a 
mile- short  of  that  place  is  the  site  of  the  sacred  grove 
in  which  the  Isthmian  games  were  celebrated.  The 
only  remains  of  its  ancient  buildings  are  those  of  the 
stadium  in  the  southern  part  of  the  enclosure,  the  shell 
of  a  theatre  about  300  yards  to  the  north  of  it,  and 
the  foundations  of  the  precinct  which  the  temples  of 
Neptune  and  Palremon  once  adorned 

When  I  come  to  mention  Elis,  a  few  remarks  will 
be  oflfered  on  the  political  import  of  the  games,  which, 
as  the  common  meetings  of  the  Greeks,  Avere  suoh  im- 
portant means  of  cementing  mutual  agreement  and 
good  will,  and  which  united  amusement  of  a  religious 


V 


896 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


character  with  the  acknowledgement  of  a  political 
union — a  union  which,  had  the  Greeks  known  how  to 
preserve  it,  would  have  stayed  the  Macedonian  foe,  and 
presented  a  combined  array  of  strength,  against  which 
no  human  force  could  have  successfully  made  head. 

But  the  mention  of  the  theatrical  buildings  at  Corinth, 
and  the  natural  supposition, — drawn  from  a  knowledge 
of  their  general  character, — that  the  Corinthians  were 
greatly  addicted  to  amusements  of  this  class,  and  per- 
haps disposed  to  cultivate  them  with  an  enthusiasm 
rivalling  that  of  the  Alexandrians,  brings  us  naturally 
to  a  contemplation  of  many  allusions  found  in  St.  Paul's 
Epistles.  Doubt  has  been  thrown  upon  the  hypothesis 
that  Paul  was  skilled  in  Gentile  literature, — a  doubt 
that  seems  to  me  conceived  in  the  very  spirit  of  unne- 
cessary scepticism.  Do  the  words  of  St.  Paul  before 
the  Areopagus  convey  the  notions  of  a  Jew,  who  had 
learned  no  other  literature  than  that  of  the  Scriptures  ? 
Is  there  not  a  happy  mixture  of  calm  expostulation  and 
gentle  satire,  which,  while  it  discloses  the  truths  of  the 
Gospel,  also  proves  that  he  had  studied  and  understood 
the  nature  of  the  false  creed  and  habits  he  Mas  re- 
futing ?  To  say  nothing  of  the  obvious  quotations  from 
Pagan  writers  which  appear  in  his  writings,  the  fre- 
quent metaphors  derived  from  Gentile  rites  and  customs 
appear  most  prominently  in  his  writings, — allusions 
well  calculated  to  produce  the  effect  intended  upon  the 
hearers  to  whom  the  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles  was  sent. 
Among  these,  numerous  allusions  to  the  games  of 
Greece,  doubtless  suggested  by  the  magnificent  build- 
ings devoted  to  such  purposes,  which  he  had  beheld 
during  his  travels,  deserve  especial  notice.  His  stay 
at  Corinth,  whither  he  had  retired  in  vexation  at  his 


CORINTH. 


897 


indifferent  success  in  the  work  of  grace  at  Athens, 
doubtless  tended  to  impress  his  ardent  and  expansive 
mind  with  imagery  the  most  lively,  cmparisons  the 
mosft  effective.  And  this  was  likewise  due  to  his  early 
residence  at  Tarsus,  "  to  which  may  be  traced  the 
urbanity  which  the  Apostle  at  no  time  laid  aside,  and 
of  which  he  was  frequently  a  perfect  model,  many 
insinuating  turns  which  he  gives  to  his  epistles,  and  a 
more  skilful  use  of  the  Greek  tongue  than  a  Jew  born 
and  educated  in  Palestine  could  well  have  attained." 

The  church  of  Corinth  early  appears  to  have  been 
the  prey  of  various  intestine  divisions  which  interfered 
with  the  good  work  of  the  Apostle.  What  these  dis- 
putes really  were,  and  what  were  the  reasons  that  led  to 
them,  or  to  what  consequences  they  led,  we  have  little 
knowledge.  It  is  "remarkable  in  the  Epistles  of  the 
Apostle  Paul,  by  the  variety  of  its  spiritual  gifts,  whioh 
seem  for  the  time  to  have  eclipsed  or  superseded  the 
oflSce  of  the  elder  or  bishop,  which  in  most  churches 
became  from  the  beginning  so  very  prominent.  Very 
soon,  however,  this  peculiarity  was  lost,  and  the  bishops 
of  Corinth  take  a  place  co-ordinate  to  those  of  other 
capital  cities. 


*» 


he 

it. 


us 


S4 


■^4 


ELIS. 


LIS  is,  essentially,  the  Holy  Land 
of  Greece.  Of  comparatively  little 
importance  in  resources,  or  in  any 
active  part  taken  in  the  grand  field 
of  Grecian  politics,  it  was  a  pleasant 
district,  about  fifty-four  miles  in 
length  from  south  to  north,  but  not 
above  half  that  breadth  in  its  broadest  part.  Chief 
among  the  rivers  which,  rising  in  the  mountains  of 
Arcadia,  irrigated  the  fruitful  plains  of  Elis,  was  the 
Alpheus,  on  whose  banks  the  Olympic  games  were 
celebrated.  In  this  sacred  land  of  peace,  the  Greek 
nation  assembled  to  celebrate  the  grandest  festival  to 
antiquity,  to  which  the  States  were  invited,  even  in 
time  of  war.  Wachsmuth  thinks  that  the  claims  of 
the  Eleans  were  not  of  the  early  date  they  asserted. 
"  The  name  and  history  of  the  Olympic  sanctuary  do 
not  begin  historically  till  Iphitus,  From  the  time  of 
the  dissolution  of  the  political  system  of  the  ancient 
Achaeans,  it  seems  to  have  existed  solely  for  the  benefit 
of  the  Pisatans :  it  is  certain  that  before  Iphitus,  the 
games  w^ere  suspended,  according  to  the  tradition, 
from  the  time  of  Oxylus ;  but  it  is  a  question  whether 
Oxylus  at  that  time  ruled  over  Pisatis;  nevertheless, 
the  account  of  a  consecration  is  not  altogether  unfounded. 


.<lft«01^ 


ELI8. 


ry(n.^: 


899 


This  consecration  must  be  especially  referred  to  the 
locality  of  the  feast,  and  in  its  most  definite  sense,  to 
the  grove  Altis." 

Moreover,  armies  were  compelled  to  lay  down  their 
arms  before  they  passed  through  this  favoured  land, 
and  during  the  celebration  of  the  feast  to  pay  a  fine. 
Nevertheless,  as  Wachsmuth  rightly  observes,  "  it  was 
almost  a  shameless  assertion  on  the  part  of  the  Eleans, 
that  they  had  not  borne  arms  before  the  time  of  Philip ; 
they,  in  fact,  fought  with  advantage  to  themselves  for 
the  sovereignty  of  Pisatis  and  Triphylia,  and  for  their 
common  country  against  the  Persians."  Heeren,  who 
takes  a  more  favourable  view  of  the  Eleans  than  his 
countryman,  gives  the  following  idea  of  the  advantages 
which  occurred  to  Elis  from  the  Olympic  games : — 

"  If  this  privilege  gave  to  them,  as  it  were,  all  their 
importance  in  the  eyes  of  the  Greeks  ;  if  their  country 
thus  became  the  common  centre ;  if  it  was  the  first  in 
Greece  for  works  of  art,  and  perhaps  for  wealth;  if 
their  safety,  their  prosperity,  their  fame,  and,  in  some 
measure,  their  existence  as  an  independent  state,  were 
connected  with  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Olympus,  and 
its  festivals,  need  we  be  astonished  if  no  sacrifice 
seemed  to  them  too  great,  by  which  the  glory  of 
Olympia  was  to  be  increased  ?  Here,  on  the  banks  of 
the  Alpheus,  stood  the  sacred  grove,  called  Altis,  of 
olive  and  plane  trees,  surrounded  by  an  enclosure ;  a 
sanctuary  of  the  arts,  such  as  the  world  has  never  since 
beheld.  For  what  are  all  our  cabinets  and  museums, 
compared  with  this  one  spot  V  Its  centre  was  occupied 
by  the  national  temple  of  the  Greeks,  the  temple  of 
Olympian  Jove,  in  which  was  the  colosisal  statue  of 


400 


GHKAT  CITirS  OF  THi;  WOULI). 


that  god,  the  masterpiece  of  Phidias.  No  other  work 
of  art  in  antiquity  was  so  gfneraliy  acknowledged  to 
have  been  the  first,  even  whilst  all  other  inventions  of 
Grecian  genius  were  still  uninjured;  and  need  we  hesi- 
tate to  regard  it  as  the  first  of  all  the  works  of  art, 
of  which  we  have  any  knowledge  ?  Besides  this  temple, 
the  grove  contained  those  of  Juno  and  Lucina,  the 
theatre  and  the  Prytaneuni ;  in  front  of  it,  or  perhaps 
within  its  precincts,  v/as  the  stadium,  together  with  the 
race-ground,  or  Ilippodronuis.  The  whole  forest  was 
filled  with  monuments  and  statues,  erected  in  honour 
of  gods,  heroes,  and  conqueiors.  Pausanias  mentions 
more  than  two  hundred  and  thirty  statues ;  of  Jupiter 
alone  he  describes  twenty-three,  and  these  were,  for  the 
most  part,  works  of  the  first  artists  ;  for  how  could  any 
poor  production  gain  admittance,  where  even  indilTereftt 
ones  were  despised  ?  Pliny  estimates  the  whole  number 
of  these  statues  in  his  time  at  three  thousand.  To  this 
must  be  added  the  treasures  which  the  piety  or  the 
vanity  of  so  many  cities,  enumerated  by  Pausanias, 
had  founded  by  their  votive  presents.  It  was  with  a 
just  pride  that  the  Grecian  departed  from  Olympia. 
He  could  say  to  himself  v>ith  truth,  that  he  had  seen 
the  noblest  objects  on  earth,  and  that  these  were  not 
the  works  of  foreigners,  but  the  cvcjition  and  prosperiiy 
of  his  own  nation." 

But,  great  as  was  the  glory  of  Elis  as  the  centre  of 
peace  and  religion  in  Greece,  few  vestiges  remain  to 
attest  its  renown.  The  reader  will  perhaps  notice  our 
remarks  on  the  destructive  influence  of  vegetation  on 
the  ruins  of  Baal-bek;  nature  has  been  at  work  with 
an  equally  baleful  cfTect  around  the  site   of  ancient 


SLIS. 


401 


Elis.    We  may  well  conclude  this  notice  with  the 
remarks  of  Wordsworth  on  the  subject  :— 

"It  is  a  consequence  of  those  natural  properties 
which  conduced  to  its  fertility,  that  so  few  remains  at 
present  survive  of  the  former  splendour  of  Elis.  The 
Boil  consists  of  a  rich  alluvial  loam,  deposited,  in  the 
lower  grounds,  by  the  rivers ;  and  both  the  stone  of 
the  country  is  of  a  more  porous  description  than  the 
limestone  and  marble  supplied  by  the  quarries  in  other 
parts  of  Greece,  and  the  remains  of  the  buildings  have 
disappeared  the  sooner  beneath  the  covering  of  soil 
which  was  brought  down  by  the  streams  from  the 
mountain  slopes.  The  same  observations  may  be 
applied  generally  to  the  other  provinces  of  the  Grecian 
continent  and  peninsula,  upon  which  nature  has  bestowed 
a  larger  share  of  her  endowments.  The  remains  of 
antiquity  are  generally  in  an  inverse  ratio  to  the  fertility 
of  their  soil.  We  believe  that  scarcely  a  sculptured 
group  or  fragment  of  a  frieze  in  to  be  seen  at  the  present 
time  within  the  limits  of  the  district  of  Helk  most 
distinguished  for  their  prolific  character,  namely,  Thes- 
saly  and  Boeotia  on  the  continent,  and  Achaia  and 
Elis  in  the  Peloponnesus." 


-^fe» 


■S" 


■  1 


rl^i' 


84* 


V 


m 


«.* 


«* 


ROME 


aXIUJu    'I'ij    :xi 


'^F  it  Is  difficuli  to  say  a  little 
on  tlie  subject  of  Athens, 
Home  fiicsents  an  equal  tlis- 
advantiige  to  the  histoiio 
sketchei-.  The  gigantic  vol- 
umes of  Pirancsi,  the  volu- 
minous cyclopieUias  culleeied 
by  a  Gra3vius,  a  Piiij^cus,  or 
a  Murutori,  have  exhiui.steti 
all  the  mingled  appliaiicia. 
of  art,  literature,  and  leain-. 
ing,  upon  the  city  of  tlie 
Seven  Hills,  and  llicir  ma- 
terials have,  in  tuin,  fur- 
nished a  host  of  tonijtilers 
■with  subjects,  the  discussiun 
of  each  of  ■which  has,  in  some  cases,  formed  many  u 
folio. 

What  endless  stories  of  the  Arcadiun  life  of  early 
Italy  does  the  Palatine  lull  suggest  to  uur  mindbl 
Here  was  the  little  cottage  of  Ilvander,  leinviih  the 
humble  roof  of  which,  tlie  Ai'c-adian  King,  liice  hunio 
patriarch  of  lioller  hittory,  lei'tived  the  jatlcd  und 
weather-beaten  Tiojans,  as  they  sought  a  new  lai.d, 
that  should  hereafter  inspire  u  Virgil  with  ihu  most 
(402)        • 


*'j 


'■^k'^' 


ROMB. 


405 


delicious  description  ever  penned.  On  this  hill,  too, 
were  the  noblo  babes  exposed,  who,  miraculously  pre- 
served, became  the  founders  of  a  State  that  was  to 
command  the  world.  At  the  southern  extremity  of  the 
present  forum,  and  just  under  the  Palatine  hill,  stands 
the  church  of  St.  Theodore,  traditionally  said  to  be  the 
temple  afterwards  erected  to  Romulus  by  Tatius.  It  is 
of  a  circular  form,  and  the  brazen  wolf,  commemorating 
the  curious  manner  in  which  the  founders  of  Rome  were 
nurtured,  occupied  a  place  here  till  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury. "But  this  last  fact,"  observes  a  visitor,  "is 
surely  of  no  authority  to  demonstrate  this  to  be  the  ori- 
ginal building.  The  roof  is  unquestionably  modern, 
nor  is  there  any  thing  to  a  common  eye  which  bespeaks 
peculiar  antiquity."  In  Spence's  anecdotes,  however, 
we  find  another  argument  in  its  favour :  he  says,  "  that 
the  Roman  matrons  of  old  used  to  carry  their  children, 
when  ill,  to  the  temple  of  Romulus ;  and  the  women 
still  carry  their  children  to  St.  Theodore  on  the  same 
occasions." 

Such  is  a  slight  specimen  of  the  legendary  associa- 
tions with  which,  even  in  these  days,  the  site  of  the 
ancient  capital  of  the  western  world  is  replete.  It  is 
a  city  of  gods  and  heroes,  and  even  in  its  dirty  streets, 
and  amidst  its  dirtier  population,  some  feeble  concep- 
tions of  its  ancient  nobility  and  magnificence  rise  in 
our  imagination.  Although  the  Tarpeian  rock  has 
dwindled  away  from  the  precipitous  height  which  was 
once  fearful  to  contemplate,  still  the  fate  of  "  La  bella 
Tarpeia,"  as  she  is  still  called  by  the  neighbouring  pea- 
santry, makes  us  think  of  the  faithless  maiden  whose 
death  Propertius  has  so  gracefully  worked  into  the 


406 


GREAT    CITIEfl    OF   THE    WORLD. 


form  of  an  elegy,  or  of  a  Manlins,  whoso  fate  might 
serve  as  a  significant  lesson  to  many  a  political  adven- 
turer of  modern  times. 

Rome  has  undergone  changes  so  great,  even  previous 
to  the  introduction  of  Chrl.stianity,  that  we  can  hardly 
be  surprised  that  so  few  monunionts  appertaining  to 
the  days  of  the  Republic  have  been  handed  down  to  us. 
The  Palatine  hill,  with  the  rude  huts  built  by  the  hardy 
followers  of  Romulus,  was  as  great  a  contrast  to  the 
capitol  when  beautified  and  covered  with  stately  build- 
ings by  Tarquin,  as  its  imperfect  restoratiori  after 
its  destruction  by  the  Gauls  (a.  u.  365)  presented  .to 
its  subsequent  state.  The  capture  of  Corinth  tended  at 
once  to  humanize  the  tastes  of  private  individuals,  and 
to  furnish  the  means  of  gratifying  them.  Gradually, 
the  study  of  Grecian  art  developed  itself  in  the  increased 
splendour  of  private  dwellings  and  public  offices,  just 
as  the  literature  of  Rome  sprang  up  from  the  imitation 
of  the  older  Greeks.  In  fact,  "  we  can  scarcely  fail 
coming  to  this  conclusion,  that  architecture  was  at  a 
very  low  ebb  in  Rome,  when  it  was  at  its  height  in 
Greece,  and  in  the  Grecian  colonies.  The  remains  at 
Athens,  such  as  the  Parthenon,  the  temple  of  Theseus, 
and  the  Propylsea,  carry  us  back  to  the  time  of  Pericles, 
which  answers  to  the  year  of  Rome  302.  In  Sicily,  the 
temples  of  Egesta  and  Girgcnti  remind  us  of  the  ravages 
which  the  Carthaginians  had  inflicted  upon  the  island, 
before  the  Romans  had  a  navy  in  their  ports  to  contend 
with  them.  If  we  come  still  nearer  to  them  in  Mairua 
Grsecia,  we  have  the  temple  of  Paestura,  over  whose 
history  a  veil  of  mystery  is  spread,  through  which  we 
endeavour  to  louk  into  those  times  which  are  prior  to 


ROMK. 


409 


existing  records.  But  at  Rome  there  seems  to  have 
been  no  national  genius  which  could  strike  out  such 
magnificent  works;  and  for  many  years,  no  national 
taste  whiph  would  care  to  imitate  them.  A  patriot  in 
the  days  of  Augustus,  if  taunted  upon  this  defect, 
would  probably  have  made  the  rudeness  and  inelegance 
of  his  ancestors  a  topic  of  admiration ;  but  in  comparing 
the  Romans  with  the  Athenians,  we  cannot  deny  that 
the  latter  were  the  most  polished  nation  of  the  two ; 
and  as  a  dictator  taken  from  a  plough,  or  a  capitol 
built  of  brick,  does  not  excite  in  us  any  patriotic  feeling, 
we  may,  perhaps,  be  allowed  to  sympathize  more  with 
the  fate  of  Athens  than  of  Rome." 

Although  the  saying  that  <' Augustus  found  the 
capitol  of  brick,  and  left  it  of  marble"  is  probably  an 
epigrammatic  exaggeration,  yet  there  is  no  doubt  that 
this  prince,  whose  reign  is  proverbially  associated  with 
Roman  prosperity  in  its  highest  state,  contributed  more 
than  any  of  his  predecessors  to  the  magnificence  which 
made  Rome  the  "  fairest  of  things."  Desiring,  as  we 
do,  to  contemplate  Rome  at  her  highest  pitch  of 
political  glory  and  splendour,  let  us  take  a  brief  view 
of  the  times  of  Augustus  Octavianus. 

But,  before  we  proceed  to  this  interesting  subject, 
let  us  bear  in  mind  the  fact,  that  the  Rome  of  Augustus 
had  not  by  any  means  attained  the  architectural  per- 
fection which  it  afterwards  boasted.  The  drunken  folly 
of  a  Nero,  who  rivalled  in  madness  the  incendiary  of 
the  temple  at  Ephesus,  doubtless  destroyed  most  of 
the  principal  buildings,  but  was  perhaps  beneficial  in 
leading  to  more  scientific  nrrangements  in  the  recon- 
struction of  the  city.     At  all  tiinos,  Kome  had  been  an 


'^410 


•v. 


OR  EAT  CITIES  Ol<   TIIH  WO  III,  I). 


^object  of  .'Klminition  and  iiituro>^t.     When  the  barbarian 

;,Gauls,  who  hii<l,  ccntiirios  hol'oro,  forco*!  its  gates,  and 
penetrated  to  the  forum  whore  tlie  si'Viators  sat  in 
solemn  conclave,  were  awed  bv  \\\v  iiraiuhMir  which 
even  then  formed  so  groat  a  contiai^t  to  their  own 
rough,  wandering  homes,  well  migiit  a  ('aractacns, 
fresh  from  the  cavern  dwellings  of  our  own  isle,  marvel 
at  the  love  of  conquest  whicli  could  make  his  humble 
dominions  an  object  of  envy  to  the  possessors  of  a  city 
of  palaces.  Even  the  Greeks,  tutored  in  a  more  exclu- 
sive school  of  art,  severer  in  their  taste,  and  more 
reserved  in  their  criticisms,  could  not  deny  the  won- 
drous beauty  of  that  city  which  hud  proved  so  fatal  to 
their  own  prosperity.    "  Constantius,"  observes  Eustace, 

r"  a  cold  and  unfeeling  prince,  who  had  visited  all  the 
pities  of  Greece  and  Asia,  and  was  familiar  with  the 
superb  exhibitions  of  Ephesus,  Magnesiji,  and  Athens, 
was  struck  dumb  with  admiration  as  he  proceeded  in 
triumphal  pomp  through  the  streets;  but  when  ho 
entered  the  forum  of  Trajan,  and  beheld  all  the  \\on' 
ders  of  that  matchless  structure,  he  felt  for  once  a 
momentary  enthusiasm,  and  burst  into  exclamations  of 
surprise  and  astonishment."  Strabo,  who  had  traversed 
Greece  in  every  direction,  and  was  without  doubt  i'lti- 
mately  acquainted  with  all  the  beauties  of  his  country, 
and,  like  every  other  Creek,  not  a  llulc  partial  to  its 
claims  to  pre-eminence,  describes  tlie  magniiicencc  of 

tliome  as  an  object  of  transcondant  glory,  th;it  surpassed 
expectation,  and  rose  far  abw.  c  all  hunjan  cumpt.'tition. 

,- If  Greeks,  so  jealous  of  tiio  ail.s  ;;nd  ediiicos  of  thi-ir 
native  land  ;  if  ompei'ui.s  of  i!io  cast,  whc  idolizd'  tlujii' 
own  C'lpiif;!,  and  iuiikod.  Viuli  e:;>'v  en  the  oiUauieiris  of 


noME. 


411 


the  ancient  city, — were  thus  obliged  to  pay  an  invo- 
luntary tribute  to  its  superior  beauty,  wo  may  pardon 
the  well-founded  enthusiasm  of  the  Romans  themselves, 
when  they  represent  it  as  the  epitome  of  the  universe, 
and  an  abode  worthy  of  the  gods.  And,  indeed,  if 
Virgil,  at  a  time  when  Augustus  had  only  begun  his 
projected  improvements,  and  the  architectural  glory  of 
the  city  was  in  its  dawn,  ventured  to  give  it  the  proud 
appellation  of  rerian  pulcherrima  we  may  conjecture 
what  it  must  have  been  in  the  reign  of  Hadrian,  when 
it  had  received  all  its  decorations',  and  blazed  in  its  full 
meridian  splendour.  Even  in  its  decline,  when  it  had 
twice  experienced  barbaric  rage,  and  had  seen  some  of 
its  fairest  edifices  sink  in  hostile  flames,  it  was  capable 
of  exciting  ideas  of  something  more  than  mortal  gran- 
deur, and  raising  the  thoughts  of  a  holy  bishop  from 
earth  to  heaven.  After  the  Gothic  war  itself,  which 
gave  the  last  blow  to  the  greatness  of  Rome,  when  it 
had  been  repeatedly  besieged,  taken,  and  ransacked, 
yet  then,  though  stripped  of  its  population,  and  aban- 
doned with  its  tottering  temples  to  time  .'in<l  desolation  ; 
even  then,  deformed  by  barbarism,  wasteil  by  pestilence, 
and  bowed  down  to  the  ground  under  the  accutnulated 
judgments  of  Heaven,  tl  ,  "Eterniil  City"  still  retained 
its  imperial  features,  nor  appeared  lo?>.-j  than  tlio  mis- 
tress of  the  world. 

It  is  indeed  certain,  that,  although  literature  deelinod 
rapidly  after  the  time  of  Augustus,  as  well  as  tliut  tho 
Latin  tongue,  by  its  gradual  deter iuration  and  lulniixturc 
with  .\frican  words  and  phraseology,  proved  a  corres- 
ponding declension  in  critical  taste,  architecture  still 
flourished,  and  the  later   Roman   emperors  displayed 


V. 


412 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


their  zeal  or  ambition,  not  only  by  decorating  the 
capital  of  their  empire,  but  by  restoring,  rebuilding,  and 
beautifying  the  cities  of  Asia  Minor  and  of  the  East. 
We  shall  hereafter  recur  to  the  present  state  of  Rome. 
At  present,  the  leading  features  of  the  Augustan  age 
claim  our  attention. 

Whatever  immoralities  may  disgrace  the  memory  of 
this  prince,  he  stands  out  as  the  patron  of  literature 
and  art,  and  as  a  kind  friend  and  companion  in  private 
life.  Loving  literature  for  its  own  sake,  his  patronage 
of  Virgil  and  Horace  was  not  a  mere  display  for 
ostentation's  sake,  but  a  rational  enjoyment  of  the 
society  of  those  who  were  most  capable  of  making  the 
private  hours  of  a  prince  agreeable.  Msecenas,  a  man 
of  equally  mixed  character  with  his  royal  master,  was 
an  excellent  "  introducer"  of  such  companions,  and  to 
him  must  much  of  the  humanizing  influence  of  these 
most  popular  of  poets  be  ascribed. 

But  the  literature  of  this  age,  and  of  the  period 
immediately  preceding  it,  cannot  be  riegarded  as  original 
in  any  sense  of  the  word.  The  Romans  had  long 
benefited  by  the  thoughts  of  the  Athenian  sages  and 
poets.  Even  the  prefaces  of  Cicero  to  his  philosophical 
works  teemed  with  allusions  to  the  works  of  those  wise 
men  to  whose  instruction  he  had  committed  his  son 
Marcus ;  while  his  pleasing,  but  not  often  sound 
reasonings  have  been  amusingly  characterized  as 
"Plato  and  water."  Julius  Ctesar's  Commentaries, 
on  the  contrary,  which  were  never  intended  to  take  the 
place  of  a  regular  history,  are  distinguished  by  a  simple 
elegance  of  language  that  equals  the  choicest  Latinity 
of  Cicero,  as  well  as  by  an  original  naivete  of  style, 


ROME. 


418 


as 


which  shows  his  genuine  enjoyment  of  a  subject  in 
which  he  had  borne  so  conspicuous  a  part.  fj 

By  the  poets  of  this  time,  though  they  had  for  the  most 
part  cast  off  the  rough  Latinity  in  which  Pacuvius  and 
Ennius,  and  subsequently,  but  in  a  more  softened  form, 
Catullus  and  Lucretius,  had  written,  metrical  rules  were 
adhered  to  with  more  strictness,  harmony  of  rhythm 
and  cadence  more  studied,  than  before.  But  still,  all 
was  imitation  of  the  Greeks.  Do  we  admire  the  Eclogues 
of  Virgil  ?  What  is  there  but  Theocritus,  the  Syracusan 
bucolist,  pruned,  it  is  true,  of  much  indelicacy,  and 
oftentimes  expanded  with  singular  felicity  of  treatment 
and  design.  Again,  the  iEneid  is  but  a  cento  of  the 
best  passages  of  Homer  and  ApoUonius,  blent  with 
singular  felicity  iato  one  narrative,  heightened  by  all 
the  charms  of  language,  and  by  a  delicacy  of  pathos, 
in  which  Virgil  stood  pre-eminent.  The  Georgics 
possess  more  claims  to  originality,  as  far  as  their 
richness  in  allusions  purely  Italian  go,  but  here,  too, 
Hesiod,  Aratus,  and  Nicander  cross  our  path.  Equally 
depe»')dent  upon  the  Greeks  are  the  minor  poets  of  this 
period  :  in  short,  it  is  an  age  in  which  luxury  has 
chastened  and  refined  taste,  while  it  has  destroyed 
originality. 

The  progress  of  the  arts  was  on  a  steady  advance. 
Even  the  atrocious  peculations  and  violence  of  a  Verres 
had  been  useful  in  raising  the  standard  of  taste,  and  it 
furnishes  the  best  objects  for  its  employment.  Archi- 
tecture, painting,  and  sculpture,  all  throve  rapidly,  and 
Rome  vied  with  its  luxurious  Pompeian  neighbours  in 
the  elegance  of  her  palaces  and  private  dwellings, 
while  her  dilletanti  vied  with  one  another  in  collecting 

35* 


414 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


th«  choicest  rarities  from  every  clime.  Peace  through- 
out the  greater  part  of  the  world  favoured  this  happy 
state  of  things,  and  the  "golden  age"  truly  seemed  to 
have  returned  undor  the  mild  dominion  of  Augustus. 

But  as  literature  fell,  .so  did  arcliitecture  improve  at 
Rome;  aiul  wlien  the  feeble  writings  of  an  Antoninus, 
or  the  heavy,  powerless  compositions  of  the  "writers 
of  the  Augustan  history,"  had  taken  the  place  of  the 
nervous,  manly  language  of  a  Tacitus,  the  rage  for 
huilding  went  on  as  hotly  as  ever.  In  fact,  an  almost 
morbid  taste  for  rearing  vast  edifices,  and  for  building 
over  tracts  which  before  scarcely  possessed  a  single 
inhabitant,  is  sometimes  a  witness  of  approaching 
downfall.  It  was  so  with  Rome.  Attentive  to  tho 
beautifying  of  cities,  sometitnes  too  remote  to  bo  faith- 
ful allies,  she  sapped  her  own  domestic  strength ;  and 
by  spreading  her  resources  too  widely  apart  from  each 
other,  crippled  the  strength  that  had  been  accumulated 
by  the  persevering  labours  and  untiring  energy  of  the 
great  men  of  so  many  centuries.  A  prey  to  disaffection 
at  home,  and  to  the  incursions  of  an  overwhelming 
horde  of  barbarians  from  without,  ancient  Rome  fell. 
To  its  present  degraded  state,  Ave  shall  brieliy  advert 
in  our  concluding  remarks. 

Let  us  now  take  a  slight  view  of  the  forum,  the  grand 
scene  of  the  struggles  of  a  people  for  a  liberty  they 
could  so  readily  lose  in  the  former  scene  of  their  victory ; 
the  place  where  a  Virginius  had  sacrificed  his  child  to 
preserve  her  honour,  and  where  the  corpse  of  Caesar 
had  been  made  to  preach  a  mute  sermon  that  extin- 
guished the  last  breath  of  expiring  freedom.  Let  us 
think  of  it,  when  palaces  and  temples  reared  themselves 


A.jfi»J  .  <P(i<A*Ofl.iUi' 


noME. 


4W 


one  above  another,  and  seemed  to  blend  their  marble 
fagades  ^vith  the  .rm  Italian  sky  that  encompassed 
80  delicious  a  picture. 

It  lay  between  the  Capitoline  and  Palatine  hills; 
it  was  eight  hundred  feet  wide,  and  adorned  on  all 
sides  with  porticos,  shops,  and  other  edifices ;  on  the 
erection  of  which  immense  sums  had  been  expended, 
and  the  appearance  of  which  was  very  imposing, 
especially  as  it  was  much  enhanced  by  numerous 
statues.  What  emotions  must  have  been  raised  within 
the  minds  of  the  people  on  gazing  at  these  statues ! 
How  many  grudges,  how  much  strife,  how  much 
pleasure  was  awakened  to  recollection  by  their  presence ; 
connected  as  they  were  with  all  the  ancient  tales  the 
priests  disseminated,  the  patricians  derided,  and  the 
plebs  believed.  What  must  be  the  feelings  of  the 
modern  traveller  who  gazes  on  the  relics  left  of  this 
busy  mart  and  throng  of  men  !  In  the  middle  was  the 
mysterious  plain  called  the  Curtian  Lake,  into  which, 
when  it  gaped  for  a  victim,  Gurtius,  as  the  old  fable 
related,  plunged  full  armed,  to  avert  the  fate  impending 
over  Rome.  What  a  shout  his  countrymen  sent  up  to 
Jove,  as  the  yawning  gulf,  appeased  by  the  sacrifice 
of  the  bravest  man  of  Rome,  closed  for  ever.  On  one 
side  were  the  elevated  seats  from  which  the  orators 
addressed  their  energetic  appeals  to  the  Romans,  and 
the  magistrates  their  "  wise  saws  and  modem  instances." 
These  benches,  or  pulpits  were  called  Rostra,  because 
they  were  decorated  with  the  beaks  of  the  vessels  taken 
in  a  naval  engagement  with  the  inhabitants  of  Antium. 
In  the  vicinity  was  situated  that  portion  of  the  foram, 
named  the   Comitium,  where  the  assemblies  of  tbt 


V 


418 


GUKAT    ClTIliS    UF   lllli    WOULD. 


«»^ 


people,  called  Comitia  Cuiiatn,  were  held.  In  the 
direction  of  the  Via  Sacra,  stood  the  temple  of  Anto- 
ninus and  Faustina,  and  that  mentioned  already  under 
the  name  of  the  Churcli  of  St.  Theodore,  and  then 
known  aa  the  temple  of  Komulus  and  Remus.  Farther 
on,  also,  on  the  left  hand,  was  the  temple  of  Peace, 
and  the  arch  of  Titus,  "  both,"  as  Wood  observes, 
"  monuments  of  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem."  Farther 
Blill,  rises  the  glorious  fragments  of  the  yet  stately 
Colosseum,  grander,  perhaps,  in  its  desolation  than 
when  Rome  boasted  its  most  glorious  era. 

On  the  hill,  the  highest  of  the  seven,  stood  the 
Capitol,  the  centre  of  the  wishes  and  the  hopes  of 
Rome.  The  ascent  to  this  mighty  fortress-temple 
was  by  a  flight  of  a  hundred  steps.  It  was  at  once 
the  oldest,  largest,  and  grandest  building  in  the  city. 
It  extended  for  two  hundred  feet  on  each  side,  as  it 
"was  square  in  form.  Its  gates  were  of  brass,  and  it 
was  adorned  with  costly  gildings.  The  walls  enclosed 
three  principal  structures.  The  temple  of  Jupiter 
Capitolinus  in  the  centre,  the  temple  of  Juno  on  the 
left,  and  the  temple  of  Minerva  on  the  right.  Some 
Hmall  chapels  were  also  comprehended  within  the 
boundaries,  of  the  buildings,  and  also  the  Casa  Romuli, 
or  cottage  of  Romulus, — the  thatch-covered  building 
to  which  the  superstitious  mob  of  Rome  looked  up 
■with  so  much  respect  and  admiration.  The  Basilicae 
of  which  we  shall  speak  hereafter,  were  also  in  this 
neighbourhood.  Ascending  the  Palatine,  we  pause  at 
the  ruins  of  the  palaces  of  the  Caesars. 

"  The  long  vaults,  where  a  partial  destruction  admits 
a  gleam  of  daylight  to  their  deep  recesses ;  the  terraces, 


r\ 


•A  !'■*  A 


ROME. 


419 


which  seem  to  bid  defiance  to  time ;  the  half  domes, 
and  solid  piers,  attesting  the  grandeur  of  their  ancient 
construction ;  the  walls  fringed  with  shrubs,  prin- 
cipally evergreen ;  the  very  intricacy  of  the  plan, 
an<l  the  mixture  of  kitchen-gardens  and  vineyards, 
where  once  tlie  voice  of  harmony  resounded  through 
lofty  halls  decorated  with  the  finest  productions  of 
art;  all  impress  the  mind  with  the  recollection  of 
past  glory." 

The  view  from  the  Palatine  is  interesting,  and  the 
prospect  varied.  Many  of  the  principal  buildings  are 
to  be  seen  from  this  point.  Below  the  mount,  is 
the  temple  of  'Romulus ;  farther  left,  is  that  conse- 
crated to  Vesta ;  between  both,  was  the  arch  of  Janus ; 
in  the  immediate  neighbourhood  was  the  temple  of 
Castor  and  Pollux ;  and  not  very  far  distant,  that  of 
Apollo.  "All  these  names,"  observes  Wood,  "and 
almost  every  inch  of  ground  is  disputed  by  the  Roman 
antiquaries  ;  but  about  such  dissensions  the  imagination 
does  not  trouble  herself."  In  fact,  as  I  have  already 
observed  in  reference  to  ancient  Roman  legends,  we 
find  too  much  pleasure  in  believing,  to  wish  to  give  way 
to  the  skepticism  even  of  a  Niebuhr.  Besides,  it  has 
been  well  remarked  by  Burton,  "if  we  must  have 
visible  objects  on  which  to  fix  our  attention,  we  have 
the  ground  itself  on  which  the  Romans  trod ;  w'o  have 
the  Seven  Hills ;  wo  have  the  Campus  Martins ;  the 
Forum ;  all  places  familiar  to  us  from  history,  and  in 
which  we  can  assign  the  precise  spot  where  some 
memorable  action  was  performed.  Those  Avho  feel  a 
gratification  in  placing  their  footsteps  where  Cicero  or 
Osesar  did  before  them  in  the  consciousness  of  standing 


420 


onriAT  ciTii:s  ok  tiik  \vonM». 


upon  the  same  hill  wliich  Manliiia  defended,  and  in  nil 
those  associations  which  ])rin;;  tho  actors  themselves 
upon  tho  scene,  may  have  all  their  enthusiasm  satisfied, 
and  need  not  complain  that  tiiere  aro  no  monuments 
\)f  the  Republic.  Rome  is,  indeed,  a  melancholy  wreck 
of  what  it  was ;  but  the  circuit  of  the  walls,  being  tho 
same  at  this  moment  as  in  tho  time  of  the  Emperor 
Aurelian,  wo  have  so  far  a  point  of  connection  between 
former  times  and  our  own ;  and  what  is  wanting  in 
many  ancient  cities, — wo  can  positively  identify  the 
limits  which  it  occupied.  But  in  Rome  we  can  do 
more :  from  tho  records  of  history,  we  can  trace  the 
gradual  increase  of  tho  city  from  fhe  time  when 
Romulus  had  his  cottage  on  tho  Capitol,  to  the  final 
extension  of  the  walls  by  Aurelian. 

I  have  now  to  crave  my  reader's  attention  on  a 
painful  subject.  Whatever  may  be  the  anxiety  of  the 
Christian  on  behalf  of  the  Jews,  who  to  this  day  per- 
sist in  withholding  their  belief  in  Him  whom  their 
forefathers  crucified,  and  dispiriting  as  is  the  compa- 
ratively small  success  of  the  attempts  made  for  their 
conversion,  the  state  of  Papal  Rome  is  a  subject  fraught 
with  a  no  less  painful  interest.  It  is  fearful  to  contem- 
plate the  degraded  condition  of  the  lazzaroni  of  modern 
Italy,  and,  in  their  listless  and  profligate  lounging,  to 
read  the  demoralizing  influence  of  Popery.  Licentious 
indifference  to  the  duties  of  common  life  are  ill-atoned 
by  the  purchased  pardon  or  indulgence  of  a  priest; 
little  does  the  pomp  and  luxury  of  the  Papal  proces- 
sions agree  with  the  characteristics  of  the  "  fisherman's 
son."  Yet  there  is  a  stern  vitality  in  Romanism  that 
mocks  our  understanding,  although  we  cannot  deny  its 


KOVG. 


421 


cxiMtence.  Roiniiuidin  id  u  riddle,  the  intorprotution  of 
which  lies  hut  tuo  deeply  in  the  dark  passions  and 
most  invrard  failings  of  mankind.  Yet  docs  not  tho 
fact,  that  the  Papal  authority  is  to  this  hour  supported 
by  the  soldiery  of  a  neighbouring  nation,  little  remark- 
able for  its  religious  or  believing  tendency,  sadly 
satirize  the  assumption  of  tho  keys  of  heaven  and 
earth  by  a  so-called  prince,  who  cannot  retain  the 
keys  of  his  own  city  ?  It  is  for  God  alone  to  decree 
and  bring  about  the  great  change  that  shall  substitute 
healthful  employment  for  almsgiving,  tho  Bible  for 
the  breviary,  and  the  Gospel  for  tradition.  God  send 
the  day  be  not  far  oft'! 

Superstition  took  its  birth  from  Rome,  and  stoutly 
has  Rome  nurtured  tho  sturdy  bantling  that  is  now 
sapping  her  vitals,  and  consuming  her  population  with 
the  disease  of  sloth  and  ignorance.  Relics  the  most 
apocryphal,  traditions  the  most  extravagant,  take  their 
stand  by  the  side  of  the  saints  of  the  New  Testament 
and  the  inspired  word  of  the  Almighty.  The  dome  of 
St.  Peter's  rears  its  head  proudly  above  every  sur- 
rounding structure,  and  claims  for  itself  that  pre-emi- 
nence which  the  Apostle  disclaimed.  How  unmeaning 
is  such  a  conception  of  Peter's  character  !  How  utterly 
at  variance  with  Scripture,  or  with  the  simplest  evi- 
dence drawn  from  a  knowledge  of  human  nature  !  To 
this  day  it  is  a  matter  of  uncertain  tradition  whether 
St.  Peter  ever  was  at  Rome  at  all ;  and  surely,  had 
such  an  idea  as  Papal  supremacy  ever  formed  a  part 
of  the  Christian  dispensation,  it  would  have  been  esta- 
blished on  a  safer  and  sounder  footing  than  on  tho 
doubtful  interpretation  of  a  single  text  of  Scripture. 

m 


422 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


Eustace,  describing  the  Basilica  of  St.  Peter  has  the 
following  pertinent  remarks : — 

"  The  Basilica  of  St.  Peter  was  the  first  and  noblest 
religious  edifice  erected  by  Constantino.  It  stood  on 
part  of  the  circus  of  Nero,  and  was  supposed  to  occupy 
a  spot  consecrated  by  the  blood  of  numberless  martyrs, 
exposed  or  slaughtered  in  that  place  of  public  amuse- 
ment by  order  of  the  tyrant.  But  its  principal  and 
exclusive  advantage  was  the  possession  of  the  body  of 
St.  Peter, — a  circumstance  which  raised  it  in  credit 
and  consideration  above  the  Basilica  Lateranensis ; 
dignified  its  threshold  with  the  honourable  appellation 
of  the  Limina  Apostolorura,  or  the  Threshold  of  the 
Apostles ;  and  secured  to  it  the  first  place  in  the  aflfec- 
tion  and  reverence  of  the  Christian  world.  Not  only 
monks  and  bishops,  but  princes  and  emperors  visited  its 
sanctuary  with  devotion,  and  even  kissed,  as  they 
approached,  the  marble  stops  that  led  to  its  portal. 
Nor  was  this  reference  confined  to  the  orthodox  mon- 
archs  who  sat  on  the  throne  of  its  founder ;  it  extended 
to  barbarians,  and  more  than  once  converted  a  cruel 
invader  into  a  suppliant  votary.  The  Vandal  Genseric, 
whose  heart  seldom  felt  emotions  of  mercy  while  he 
plundered  every  house  and  temple  with  unrelenting 
fury,  spared  the  treasures  deposited  under  the  roof  of 
the  Vatican  Basilica,  and  even  allowed  the  plate  of  the 
churches  to  be  carried  in  solemn  pomp  to  its  inviolable 
altars.  Totila,  Avho  in  a  moment  of  vengeance  had 
sworn  that  he  would  bury  the  glory  and  the  memory 
of  Rome  in  its  ashes,  listened  to  the  admonitions  of  the 
pontiff,  and  resigned  his  fury  at  tlie  tomb  of  tliu 
apostles. 


t  i 


BAELY  CHRISTIAN  MARTYRS  EXPOSED  TO  WILD 
BEASTS  IN  THE  CIRCUS. 


tiio 


•v. 


< 


y\ 


jja> 


"N 


M 


[ 


■im  %Am^ 


•••'•»«***••*.+ V       M^*;-  fc        "» *       '•i-j*-  i.-r^j^'>«& 


ROME. 


425 


"  Every  age,  as  it  passed  over  the  Vatican,  seemed 
to  add  to  its  holiness  and  dijr  ity  ;  and  the  coronation 
of  an  emperor,  or  the  installation  of  a  pope,  the  depo- 
sition of  the  remains  of  a  prince,  or  the  enshrinement 
of  the  reliques  of  a  saint,  appeared  as  so  msny  new 
claims  to  the  veneration  of  the  Christian  world.  At 
length,  however,  after  eleven  centuries  of  glory,  the 
walls  of  the  ancient  Basilica  began  to  give  way,  and 
symptoms  of  approaching  ruin  were  become  so  visible 
about  the  year  1450,  that  Nicholas  V.  conceived  the 
project  of  taking  down  the  old  church,  and  erecting  in 
its  stead  a  new  and  more  extensive  structure." 

I  have  too  little  taste  for  the  bitterness  of  religious 
controversy  to  enter  farther  into  the  history  of  St. 
'  eter's  at  Rome,  or  to  desire  to  dwell  upon  the  corrup- 
tions with  which  Romanism  stands  attainted.  Let  all 
sects  find  that  there  arc  certain  common  principles  of 
Christianity,  from  which  no  one  may  swerve ;  let  them 
agree  on  those  points,  and  true  Catholicism  and  liberty 
of  conscience  will  reign  together.  But  for  the  ipse 
dixit  of  Papal  power,  Christendom  is  no  longer  tho 
field.  Neander  has  well  proved  "  that  the  idea  of  tho 
primacy  of  St.  Peter  rested  on  nothing  but  a  misunder- 
standing both  of  the  position  which  had  been  assigned 
him  in  the  progressive  movement  of  the  Church,  as 
also  of  the  particular  titles  which  were  given  to  him." 
Popery  is  a  splendid  religious  mistake,  and  a  fatal  one, 
because  destitute  of  the  inestimable  elements  of  a 
healthy  and  moderate  tendency  to  self-reformation. 


•s? 


4 


MAHOM£T  IL 


CONSTANTINOPLE. 


ONSTANTINOPLE,  the  capital  of  Tur- 
key, is  one  of  the  largest  and  most 
famous  cities  in  Europe.  It  is  called 
by  the  Oriental  nations  Constaniia,  by 
the  Turks,  Istamhoul,  (that  is,  '•  into 
the  city,")  by  the  Wallachians  and 
Bulgarians,  Zaregrad  (royal  citvj.  The 
ancients  called  the  citv  that  vStood  upon 
the  same  site,  Byzantium.  Constantino  the  Great 
built  Constantinople  for  a  capital,  consecrating  it  in 
the  year  330.  From  that  time  until  1453,  the  city 
was  the  residence  of  the  Emperors  of  the  East,  who 
adorned  it  with  the  most  magnificent  edifices.  The 
inhabitants  were  distinguished  for  luxury  and  refinement. 
(426) 


CONSTANTINOPLE. 


429 


The  spoils  of  half  the  world  enriched  this  great  capital. 
In  1458  it  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Turks,  who  have 
held  it  ever  since.  The  city  has  been  besieged  211 
times,  but  taken  only  6,  viz. : — by  Alcibiades,  Severus, 
Constantine,  Dandolo,  Michael  Palseologus,  and  Moham- 
med II. 

Constantinople  lies  in  the  province  of  Roumelia,  on 
the  sea  of  Marmora,  find  at  the  south-western  opening 
of  the  Thracian  Bosphorus,  which  separates  Europe 
from  Asia.  The  harbour  is  large  and  safe.  The 
interior  of  the  city  but  ill  corresponds  with  its  noble 
amphitheatrical  site  and  the  splendour  of  its  mosques 
and  palaces.  The  streets  are  generally  narrow,  dirty, 
and  steep ;  the  houses  for  the  most  part  low,  and  built 
of  mud  and  wood.  The  great  mass  of  the  inhabitants 
are  Turks.  Trade  is  chiefly  carried  on  by  the  Gj^eks, 
Jews,  and  Armenians. 

The  Turks,  or  Toorks,  are  a  numerous  race,  whose 
original  seat  was  in  the  high  central  regions  of  Tartary, 
to  the  north  and  east  of  the  Jaxartes,  and  along  the 
borders  of  the  Altai.  Their  large  and  handsome 
persons,  and  their  fair  and  ruddy  complexions,  distin- 
guish them  from  the  meagre,  diminutive,  and  almost 
deformed  aspect  of  the  Mongols,  the  other  ruling 
Tartar  race.  In  the  tenth  century,  having  subdued 
all  their  neighbours,  they  were  attracted  by  the  rich 
and  beautiful  regions  of  the  south,  and  poured  down 
through  Khorassan  into  Persia. 

The  princes  of  the  Seljuk  dynasty  had,  at  the  above 
period,  established  full  sway  over  Persia.  Thence  they 
crossed  the  Euphrates,  to  attack  the  weakened  power 
of  the  Greek  empire  and  the  Saracen  princes.     They 


V. 


480 


GREAT   CITIES   OP   THE    WORLD. 


vrero  triumphant ;  and  established  in  Asia  Minor  what 
was  called  the  kingdom  of  Kouni,  while  other  chiefs 
over-ran  Syria  and  the  Holy  Land.  At  this  time  the 
whole  of  Western  Asia  was  subject  to  Turkish  dynasties. 
But  their  full  was  preparing.  The  outrages,  of  which 
their  rude  bands  were  guilty,  formed  one  of  the  chief 
motives  which  impelled  the  European  powers  to  the 
great  enterprise  of  the  crusades.  The  Latin  nations 
poured  in  with  a  force  which  the  Turks  were  unable  to 
withstand ;  and  the  thrones  of  Jerusalem  and  Iconium 
were  speedily  subvert  d.  At  the  same  time,  the 
Mongols,  under  Zinghis,  having  achieved  the  subjugation 
of  Tartary,  followed  the  traces  of  the  Turks,  wrested 
from  them  Persia,  and  subverted  the  caliphate.  At 
the  end  of  the  thirteenth  century,  the  once  proud 
dyn^ies  of  Seljuk  were  reduced  to  a  number  of 
Bcat™ed  chieftains,  occupying  the  mountainous  districts 
and  high  plains  of  Asia  Minor,  and  obliged  to  own  the 
supremacy  of  the  Mongol  khans  of  Persia. 
»  Othman,  or  Ottoman,  one  of  their  chiefs,  was  the 
man  who,  in  1299,  erecting  an  independent  standard, 
founded  the  mighty  Ottoman  empire.  He  appeared 
first  under  the  aspect  of  a  Scythian  chief,  a  leader  of 
shepherds  and  bandits  ;  but  first  conquering  and  then 
uniting  under  his  standard  a  number  of  neighbouring 
tribes,  he  assembled  a  formidablie  military  force.  His 
successor,  Orchan,  having  aken  Prusa,  erected  it  into 
a  capital,  which  almost  defied  the  imperial  metropolis 
Constantinople.  His  successors  continually  augmented 
their  force  by  the  peculiar  institutions  under  which 
they  trained  to  arms  the  captive  youth  of  the  con- 
quered countries.    They  continued  to  make  acquisitions 


!  \ 


m 


CONSTAKTINOPLK. 


481 


from  the  Jecrepid  Greek  •  empire,  until  the  walla  of 
Oonstantiuoplo  enclosed  all  that  remained  of  the 
dominion  of  the  Caesars. 

The  Turkish  empire  was  raised  to  its  greatest  height 
by  tlie  capture  of  Constantinople,  in  1453,  by  Mahomet 
II.  The  power  of  the  Turks  now  struck  terror  into 
ail  Europe.  In  the  succeeding  century  they  subdued 
Egypt,  the  Barbary  States,  and  all  the  Arabian  coast 
on  the  Red  Sea.  In  Europe  they  rendered  tributary  the 
Crimea  and  the  countries  along  the  Danube ;  they 
over-ran  Hungary  and  Transylvania,  and  repeatedly 
laid  siege  to  Vienna.  When  affairs  came  to  that  crisis, 
however,  the  European  states  took  the  alarm,  and  all 
the  princes  of  Poland  and  Germany  united  against  the 
invader,  who  was  repeatedly  driven  back  with  prodigious 
loss.  At  sea,  notwithstanding  the  gallant  resi^ui4& 
of  the  Venetians  and  the  knights  of  St.  John^he 
Turks  long  carried  all  before  them :  they  subdued 
Rhodes,  Cyprus,  and  all  the  Greek  islands ;  and  it  was 
only  at  the  little  rock  of  Malta  that  their  progress 
received  a  check. 

The  decline  of  the  Ottoman  power  was  perceptible 
in  the  course  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  proceeded 
rapidly  in  the  eighteenth.  The  rigour  of  that  discipline 
by  which  they  had  rendered  themselves  so  formidable, 
was  insensibly  relaxed ;  the  grani  signior  resigned 
himself  to  the  luxuries  and  indulgenct'S  of  the  seraglio  ; 
and  the  revolts  of  the  pachas  in  every  quarter  distracted 
the  empire.  When  the  European  powers  began  to  make 
war  with  regular  armies,  they  easily  repelled  those 
tumultuary  bands  which  followed  the  Turkish  standard. 
Above  all,  when  Russia  began  to  devolope  her  gigantic 


tl   ; 


482 


CiREAT   CITIES    OF    THK    WORLD. 


"^ 


X 


energies,  the  star  of  Ottoman  ascendancy  rapidly 
declined.  Defeated  in  every  battle,  losing  several  of 
their  finest  provinces,  and  holding  the  rest  by  a 
precarious  tenure,  the  Turks  ceased  to  be  formidable. 
In  the  last  war,  indeed,  General  Diebitsch  entered 
Adrianople,  and  saw  the  road  to  the  capital  open; 
though  peace  was  then  granted  on  moderate  terms. 
But  Turkey  has  since  undergone  a  still  deeper  humilia- 
tion, having  seen  her  empire  almost  subverted  by  Ibra- 
him, son  to  the  pacha  of  Egypt,  when  she  was  saved 
only  by  the  interposition  of  Russia,  her  mortal  enemy, 
and  obliged  to  sacrifice  Syria  and  Palestine,  two  of  the 
finest  portions  of  her  territory 

Russia  constantly  aims  to  get  possession  of  Con- 
stantinople, which  will  give  her  the  command  of  the 
lib^^rranean.  Doubtless,  the  overwhelming  power 
of  t^Pczar  will  soon  extinguish  the  once  mighty  power 
of  the  Turks  and  render  their  capital  the  chief  em- 
porium of  the  Russian  emr)ire. 

Constantinople  is  annually  visited  by  that  fearful 
scourge,  called  the  plague,  which  carries  off  thousands 
of  the  inhabitants,  and  desolates  whole  sections  of  the 
city.  Yet  in  full  view  of  the  coming  of  the  pesti- 
lence, the  government  adopts  no  precautionary  mea- 
sures, and  individuals  are  jast  as  careless.  The  scenes- 
in  the  city  during  the  prevalence  of  the  plague  are 
heart-rending.  Families  are  separated  by  inevitable 
necessity,  and  many  are  left  to  die  in  the  streets,  with- 
out attendants. 


*  \ 


•^t  * 


-rfMst 


^*  t  *■> 


vi>- 


V, 


VENICE. 

THE  rise  of  the  commercial  republics  Venice, 
Genoa,  and  Florence  in  the  middle  ages 
was  a  brilliant  era  for  Italy  and  civiliza- 
tion. Their  voices,  both  for  war  and 
commerce,  covered  the  seas,  and  set  bounds 
to  the  all-grasping  power  of  the  Ottoman, 
which  threatened  to  overwhelm  the  wes- 
tern world.  They  revived  the  learning 
that  had  slumbered  for  ages.  The  remains 
of  Greek  literature  were  surveyed  by 
the  learned  men  who  fled  before  the  sword  oi  the 
Turks.  The  writings  of  the  ancients  were  drawVfrom 
the  depths  of  convents,  and  eagerly  studied  and  circu- 
lated. What  was  of  fnore  consequence,  a  race  of 
enlightened  princes  and  nobles  arose,  who  sought  glory 
in  patronising  knowledge,  while  a  general  taste  for  it 
was  diffused  among  a  wealthy  and  refined  community. 
The  arts  of  painting,  architecture  and  music,  on  which 
the  wealth  of  the  noble  citizens  was  lavishly  expended, 
rose  to  an  eminence  equalling,  perhaps,  that  of  the 
ancients :  |l 

Venice  is  situated  on  the  Lagunea  or  Small  Islands, 
about  five  miles  from  the  continent.  It  was  founded 
about  A.  D.  451  or  452 ;  when  Attila,  having  destroyed 
the  cities  of  Aquileia,  Verona,  Mantua,  Trevigio,  &c. 
such  of  the  inhabitants  as  escaped  the  slaughter  fled  to 
the  islands  on  their  coast,  and  there  took  up  their 

37  (433) 


•n" 


484 


(IREAT   CITIEJ?   OF   THE   WORLD. 


residonco.  Historians  arc  profuse  in  their  commenda- 
tions of  the  virtue  of  the  Venetians  during  the  infancy 
of  their  city.  Nothing  remarkable,  however,  occurs  in 
the  history  of  Venice  for  Boine  time,  excepting  the 
change  of  government  from  tli»  consular  to  the  tribuni> 
tial  form,  which  happened  about  thirty  years  after  the 
bnilding  of  the  city.  Tlio  ropublic  first  began  to  be 
of  consequence  after  the  destruction  of  Padua  by  the 
Lombards.  About  this  time  they  were  become  masters 
of  a  fleet  and  a  body  of  land-forces.  They  engaged  in 
a  quarrel  with  the  Lombards,  and  soon  after  distin- 
guished, themselves  agaiiiiit  the  Istrian  pirates,  who  had 
committed  depredations  on  their  coasts ;  and  the  Ter- 
gestines,  or  inhabitants  of  Trieste,  who  had  suddenly 
carried  off  a  number  of  the  citizens  of  Venice.  The 
ofty^ry  soon  arrived  at  a  high  pitch  of  affluence  and 
poweK  In  the  war  carried  on  by  Justinian  with 
the  Goths  in  Italy,  the  Vei^^ians  gave  considerable 
assistance  to  Narses,  the  Roman  general,  who  expressed 
his  gratitude  by  several  rich  presents,  and  by  building 
two  fine  churches  dedicated  to  the  sainfs  Theodore  and 
Oerminian;  the  oldest  public  buildings,  beside  St. 
Mark's  and  St.  Peter's,  in  Venice.  From  the  time  of 
Justinian  to  a.  d.  697,  historians  are  silent  with  regard 
to  the  Venetian  affairs.    « 

A  great  revoluflon  then  took  place  in  the  govern- 
ment: the  tribunes  having  abused  their  power  were 
abolished;  and  in  their  stead  was  elected  a  doge  or 
duke,  in  whom  was  vested  the  supreme  authority.  He 
was  to  represent  the  honour  and  majesty  of  the  state ; 
to  have  respect  and  distinction  paid  him  beyond  what 
the  tribunes,  or  even  the  consuls  enjoyed :  he  was  to 


*   — 


rty'tf'nV 


VENICE. 


485 


nssemblo  and  prcsiile  at  the  great  council ;  to  have  a 
casting  vote  in  all  disputed  points ;  to  nominate  to  all 
offices,  places,  and  prefennenta  ;  and  lastly,  to  enjoy 
tlio  same  authority  in  the  church  as  in  the  state.    Paul 
Anafestus  I'aoluccio  was  the  first  doge.     lie  died  in 
717.     This  form  of  government  was  changed  in  737, 
and  a  Bupremc  magistrate  chosen,  with  the  title  of 
master  of  the  horse,  or  general  of  the  forces.     His 
power  was  to  continue  only  for  a  yepr,  the  shortnesp  of 
its  duration  being  thought  a  security  against  thj  abuse 
of  it.     But  in  five  years   afterwards  the  doges  were 
restored,  and  John  Fabritio,  the  4th  and  1p  t.  mast''? 
of  the  horse,  was  deposed,  and  his  eyes  put  out.    Und^.f 
the   doges,    the   power   and   wealth  of  the  Vent'ian 
republic  continued  to  increase.    In  704  the  ii  .acioana 
and  Jesulans,  subjects  to  the  republic,  ha\!ng  farmed 
some  designs  against  the  state,  put  themselves  under 
the  protection  of  Charlemagne.     That  conqueror  not 
finding  it  convenient  to  give  them  present  assistance, 
settled  them  in  Malamocco,  until  he  could  give  them 
more  efiFectual  succour.    The  Venetians,  however,  disre- 
garding   the   protection   of    that   powerful   monarch, 
attacked  and  instantly  drove  them  out  of  Malamocco. 
Incensed  at  this,  Charlemagne  ordered  his  son  Pepin 
to  declare  war  against  the  rep;/''!^;.     This  wjis  done; 
but  the  blow  was  for  some  time  diverted  by  Astolphua, 
king  of  the  Lombards,  who,  committing  great  devasta- 
tions in  the  territories  of  the  pope,  obliged  Pepin  to 
come  to  the  assistance  of  his  holiness.     However,  after 
having  afforded  the  necessary  succour  to  the  pope, 
Pepin  prosecuted  the  war  with  Venice.     Upon  wliicli 
the  Venetians  declared  themselves  a  free  and   iude- 


»     f 


V 


486 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


pendent  state.     But  in  804  the  war  was  renewed  with 
the  utmost  fury. 

Pepin  having  quarrelled  with  Nicephorus  the  Greek 
emperor,  and  finding  Obelerio  the  Venetian  doge  in- 
^yclined  to  favour  his  adversary,  he  determined  to  exter- 
minate the  very  name  of  the  republic.*  After  having 
laid  waste  the  surrounding  province,  he  led  his  army 
directly  to  Venice,  blocking  the  city  up  at  the  same  time 
by  his  fleet.  The  Venetians  united,  and  gave  the  chief 
command  to  Valentin,  as  Obelerio  was  supposed  too 
nearly  allied  to  Pepin  to  fight  with  that  good- will  and 
cheerfulness  the  service  of  his  country  required.  The 
Venetians,  notwithstanding  the  most  obstinate  defence, 
were  at  length  reduced  to  that  part  of  the  city  South 
of  the  Rialto.  While  Pepin  was  preparing  to  lay  a 
brid|[e  over  the  canal,  they  resolved,  as  a  last  effort,  to 
attack  his  fleet.  Embarking  all  the  troops  they  could 
spare,  they  succeeded  in  driving  the  enemy's  fleet 
aground,  and  the  greater  part  of  the  troops  perished  in 
attempting  to  escape;  the  ships  were  all,  to  a  few, 
cither  taken  or  destroyed.  During  this  action  at  sea, 
Pepin,  having  thrown  a  bridge  over  the  Rialto,  was 
attacked  on  every  side  by  the  Venetians  from  their 
boats,  and  others  who  had  posted  themselves  on  the 
bridge.  The  battle  was  long,  bloody,  and  doubtful, 
until  tlie  Venetians  succeeded  in  breaking  down  the 


bridge 


when  all  communication  being  cut  off"  with  the 


troops  on  shore,  the  French  were  to  a  man  either 
killed  or  drowned.  Pepin  was  so  struck  with  the 
intrepidity  of  the  Venetians,  that  he  raised  the  siege, 
al)andoncd  the  enterprise,  and  concluded  a  peace  with 
the  republic.     lie  uricrwards  came  to  Venice  ^o  inter- 


'Ui< 


VENICE. 


437 


ceJe  for  Obelerio,  but  the  populace  being  persuaded 
that  he  had  acted  treacherously,  Pepin  was  no  sooner 
gone  than  they  tore  him  and  his  wife  to  pieces,  though 
she  was  Pepin's  sister. 

In  839,  the  Venetians  engaged  in  an  alliance  offen- 
sive and  defensive  against  the  Saracens  with  Michael 
III.  the  Greek  emperor.  A  fleet  of  60  galleys  was 
immediately  equipped,  who  joined  the  Grecian  fleet  and 
engaged  the  enemy  ;  but  during  the  heat  of  the  engage- 
ment, the  Greeks  having  basely  deserted  their  allies, 
the  Venetians  were  so  completely  defeated,  that  scarce 
a  single  vessel  remained  to  carry  the  news  of  their 
misfortune  to  Venice.  This  defeat  threw  the  city  into 
the  utmost  consternation,  as  it  was  not  doubted  that 
the  Saracens  would  immediately  lay  siege  to  the  capi- 
tal ;  instead  of  which  they  turned  their  arms  against 
Ancona,  which  they  pillaged  and  destroyed.  The 
Narentines,  however,  a  piratical  people,  no  sooner 
heard  of  the  defeat  of  the  Venetians,  than  they  laid 
waste  the  coasts  of  Dalmatia,  and  ravaged  the  country 
for  a  considerable  way ;  at  the  same  time  that  the  city 
was  distracted  by  internal  dissensions  and  tumults,  in 
one  of  which  the  doge  was  murdered.  It  was  not  till 
the  year  881  that  the  Venetian  affairs  wore  thoroughly 
re-established.  By  the  prudent  and  vigorous  admi- 
nistration of  Orso  Participato  the  power  of  the  Saracens 
was  checked,  the  Narentines  utterly  defeated,  and 
domestic  tranquillity  restored. 

From  this  time  the  republic  continued  to  flourish ; 
and  in  903  her  reputation  for  arms  became  famous  all 
over  the  world  by  a  great  victory  gained  over  the 
Huns,  who  had  invaded  Italy,  defeated  Berengarius, 


•Ji 


^ 


,  i 

1 


'^^R^ 


438 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD, 


and  threatened  the  country  with  total  destruction. 
For  a  long  time  after,  we  meet  with  no  remarkable 
transactions  in  the  Venetian  history;  but  in  general 
the  republic  increased  in  wealth  and  power  by  its 
indefatigable  application  to  maritime  affairs  and  to 
commerce.  About  the  year  1040  it  was  ordained  that 
no  prince  should  associate  a  colleague  with  him  in  the 
supreme  power. 

In  1084  the  republic  was  by  the  emperor  of  Constan- 
tinople invested  with  the  sovereignty  of  Dalmatia  and 
Croatia,  which,  however,  had  been  held  long  before  by 
right  of  conquest.  As  soon  as  the  Crusade  was 
preached  up,  the  Venetians  fitted  out  a  fleet  of  200 
sail  against  the  infidels ;  but  before  this  armament  was 
in  a  condition  to  put  to  sea,  war  broke  out  with  Pisa. 
The  doge  Vitalis  Michael  took  upon  him  the  command 
of  the  fleet,  when,  after  having  defeated  the  Pisans  in 
a  bloody  action  at  sea,  he  set  sail  for  Smyrna,  and 
from  thence  to  Ascalon,  at  that  time  besieged  by  the 
Christians.  To  his  valour  was  owing  the  conquest  of 
this  city,  as  well  as  those  of  Caipha  and  Tiberias ; 
but  before  he  had  time  to  push  his  good  fortune 
further,  he  was  recalled  on  account  of  an  invasion  by 
the  Normans  of  Dalmatia.  Here  he  was  equally  suc- 
cessful :  the  Normans  were  every  where  defeated ; 
and  Michael  returned  home  loaded  with  booty;  but 
died  poon  after  to  the  grief  of  all  his  subjects.  He 
was  succeeded  by  Ordelapho  Faliero,  under  whom  tlio 
Venetians  assisted  Baldwin  in  the  siege  of  Ptole- 
mais,  and  were  the  chief  instruments  of  its  conquest ; 
and  Baldwin,  in  recompense  for  the  services  of  t1;e 
republic,  invested  her  with  the  sovereignty  of  that  city, 


#' 


r 


U  '^] 


H 

1 

m 

1 

m 

i. 

f'^^^ 

,« 

'  Hf  -' 

>.i  r 

W:.J 


t  S 


tJ 


VENICE. 


441^ 


which  he  endowed  with  many  extraordinary  privileges, 
to  render  his  present  more  valuable.     This  good  for-  ' 
tune,  however,  was  overbalanced  by  a  rebellion  in 
Dalmatia  and  Croatia. 

^  The  former  Avas  reduced;  but,  in  a  battle  with  the  ^ 
Croatians,  the  doge  was  killed,  and  his  army  entirely 
defeated :  by  which  disaster  the  Venetians  were  so 
much  dispirited,  that  they  made  a  peace  on  the  best  « 
terms  thoy  could,  giving  up  all  thoughts  of  Croatia  for 
the  time.  Under  the  government  of  Dominico  Micheli, 
who  succeeded  Ordelapho,  the  pope's  nuncio  arrived  at 
Venice,  and  excited  such  a  spirit  of  enthusiasm  among 
all  ranks  and  degrees  of  men,  that  they  strove  whose 
names  should  be  first  enrolled  for  the  holy  war.  The 
doge,  having  fitted  out  a  fleet  of  60  galleys,  sailed 
with  it  to  Joppa,  which  the  Saracens  were  then  besieg-  !; 
ing.  The  garrison  was  reduced  to  the  last  extremity,  i 
when  the  Venetian  fleet  arrived,  surprised  and  defeated 
that  of  the  enemy  with  great  slaughter ;  soon  after 
which  the  Saracens  raised  'the  siege  with  precipitation. 
Tyre  was  next  besieged,  and  soon  was  obliged  to 
capitulate ;  on  which  occasion,  as  well  as  on  the  taking 
of  Ascalon,  the  Venetians  shared  two-thirds  of  the 
spoils.  But  in  the  mean  time  the  emperor  of  Constan- 
tirople,  jealous  of  the  increasing  power  and  wealth  of 
the  republic,  resolved  to  make  an  attack  upon  Venice, 
now  weakened  by  the  absence  of  the  doge  and  such  a 
powerful  fleet.  But  the  senate,  having  timely  notice 
of  the  empcior's  intentions,  recalled  the  doge,  who 
Itistantly  obeyed  the  summons.  Stopping  at  Rhodes, 
in  his  way  home  to  refresh  and  water  the  fleet,  the 
iuhabitants  refused  to  furnish  him  with  the  necesbariea 


*##^*#^'r. 


V 


u% 


GREAT  CUTK^  OF  THE  WORLD. 


he  (leinandod.  Incensed  at  this  denial,  he  levelled 
their  city  with  the  ground ;  and  from  thence  BAiling  to 
Chios,  he  laid  waste  and  destroyed  the  country,  carry- 
ing off  the  body  of  St.  Isidore,  in  those  daj  j  accounted 
an  inestimable  treasure.  After  this  he  stnzed  on  \A\e. 
islands  of  Saroos,  Lesbos,  Andros,  ai^d  all  tiioso  in  the 
Archipelago  belonging  to  the  emperor;  and  having 
reduced  Zara,  Spolatra,  nnd  Traha,  places  in  Dalma- 
tia  which  had  revolted  during  his  absence,  he  retiir  ued 
in  triumph  to  Venice,  where  he  was  received  with  great 

joy- 

The  Venetians  now  became  very  formidable  through- 
Ottt  ail  Europe.  The  Sicilians,  Paduans,  with  the  states 
of  Verona  and  Ferrara,  felt  the  weight  of  their  power ; 
and  ;n  1173  they  ventured  to  oppose  Frederic  Barba- 
rossa.  emperor  of  Germany.  The  occasion  of  this  quar- 
rel was,  that  pope  Alexander  had  taken  shelter  in 
Venice  to  avoid  the  resentment  of  Barbarossa,  who  had 
conceived  an  implacable  aversion  against  him,  and 
threatened  destruction  to  their  city  if  they  did  not  give 
him  up.  On  this  terrible  menace,  it  was  agreed  to 
equip  a  fleet  and  repel  the  attacks  of  such  a  formidable 
and  haughty  enemy.  But  before  the  armament  could 
be  prepared,  Otho,  the  emperor's  son,  arrived  before 
the  city  with  a  fleet  of  75  galleys.  The  doge  Sebas- 
tiano  Ziani  sailed  out  with  the  few  vessels  he  had  got 
equipped,  to  give  the  enemy  battle.  The  fleets  met 
off  the  coast  of  Istria,  and  a  terrible  engagement 
ensued,  in  which  the  imperial  fleet  was  totally  defeated, 
Otho  himself  taken  prisoner,  and  48  of  his  ships 
destroyed.  On  the  doge's  return,  the  pope  went  out 
to  meet  him,  and  presented  him  with  a  ring,  saying, 


VENICE. 


448 


**  Take  this,  Ziani,  and  give  it  to  the  seOy  as  a  testi- 
mony of  your  dominion  over  it.  Let  your  sucoessors 
annually  perform  the  same  ceremony,  that  posterity 
may  know  that  your  valour  has  purchased  this  prero- 
gative, and  subjected  this  element  to  you,  even  as  a- 
husband  subjecteth  his  wife.*'  Otho  was  treated  with 
the  respect  due  to  his  rank;  and  soon  conceived  a 
great  friendship  for  Ziani.  At  last,  being  permitted  to 
visit  the  imperial  court  on  his  parole,  he  not  only  pre- 
vailed on  his  father  to  make  peace  with  the  Venetians, 
but  even  to  visit  their  city,  so  famed  for  its  commerce 
and  naval  power.  He  was  received  with  all  possible 
respect,  and  on  his  departure  attended  to  Ancona 
by  the  doge,  the  senate,  and  the  whole  body  of  the 
nobility.  During  this  journey  he  was  reconciled  to  the 
pope ;  and  both  agreed  to  pay  the  highest  honours  to 
the  doge  and  republic. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century,  the  Vene- 
tians, now  become  exceedingly  powerful  and  opulent, 
by  the  commerce  which  they  carried  on  with  the  rich- 
est countries  of  the  world,  were  invited  by  young 
Alexis,  son  to  the  emperor  of  Constantinople,  to 
his  father's  assistance,  who  had  been  deposed  by  a 
rebellious  faction.  In  conjunction  with  the  French, 
they  undertook  to  restore  him ;  and  easily  succeeded. 
But  the  old  emperor  dying  soon  after,  his  son  was 
elected  in  his  room,  and  a  few  days  after  murdered  by 
his  subjects ;  on  which  the  empire  was  seized  by  Myr- 
tillus,  a  man  of  mean  birth,  who  had  been  raised  by 
the  favour  of  old  Alexis.  As  the  allied  army  of  French 
and  Venetians  was  encamped  without  the  city,  Myr- 
tillus  resolved  immediately  to  drive  them  out  of  hia 


i||ii 


444 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


dominions,  and  for  this  purpose  attempted  to  surprise 
their  camp ;  but  being  repulsed,  ho  shut  himself  up  in 
the  city,  with  a  resolution  to  stand  a  siege.  The  allies 
assaulted  it  with  so  much  vigour,  that  the  usurper  iras 
obliged  to  fly  ;  and  though  the  citizens  held  out  after 
his  departure,  they  were  obliged  in  less  than  three 
months  to  capitulate.  This  proved  a  source  of  greater 
acquisition  to  Venice  than  all  that  yet  happened. 
All  the  chief  offices  of  the  city  were  filled  up  with 
Venetians,  in  recompense  for  their  sevvices  ;  the  allies 
entered  Thrace,  and  subdued  it;  Candia  and  all  the 
Greek  islands  also  fell  under  the  dominion  of  the 
republic.  In  the  mean  time  the  Genoese,  by  their 
successful  appliv^ation  to  commerce,  having  raised  them- 
selves in  such  a  manner  as  to  be  capable  of  rivallirfg 
the  Venetians,  a  long  series  of  wars  took  place  between 
the  republics ;  in  which  the  Venetians  generally  had 
the  advantage,  though  sometimes  they  met  with  terri- 
ble overthrows.  These  expensive  and  bloody  quarrels 
undoubtedly  weakened  the  republic,  notwithstanding 
its  successes.  In  1348,  however,  the  Genoese  were 
obliged  to  implore  the  protection  of  Visconti,  duke  of 
Milan,  to  support  them  against  their  im^  l.icable  ene- 
mies, the  Venetians.  Soon  after  this,  in  1352,  the 
latter  were  utterly  defeated,  with  such  loss,  that  it  was 
thought  the  city  itself  must  have  fallen  into  th5  hands 
of  the  Genoese,  had  they  known  how  to  improve  their 
victory.  This  was  in  a  short  time  followed  by  a  peace ; 
but  from  this  time  the  power  of  the  republic  began  to 
decline.  Continual  wars  with  the  states  of  Italy,  with 
the  Hungarians,  and  their  own  rebellious  subjects, 
kept  the  Venetians  employed  so  thai  they  had  no 


VENICE. 


445 


leisure  to  oppose  the  Turks,  Tvhoso  rapid  advances 
ought  to  have  alarmed  all  Europe.  After  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  eastern  empire,  the  Turks  came  more  imme- 
diately to  interfere  with  the  republic.  Whatever  valour 
might  be  shown  by  the  Venetians,  or  whatever  successes 
they  might  boast  of,  it  is  certain  that  the  Turks  ulli- 
matuly  prevailed ;  so  that  for  some  time  it  seemed  scarce 
possible  to  resist  them.  What  contributed  also  greatly 
to  the  decline  of  the  republic  was  the  discovery  of  a  pas- 
sage to  the  East  Indies  by  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  in 
1497.  To  this  time  the  greatest  part  of  the  East  India 
goods  imported  into  Europe  passed  through  the  hands  of 
the  Venetians ;  but  as  soon  as  the  above-mentioned  dis- 
covery took  place,  the  carriage  by  the  way  of  Alexan- 
dria almost  entirely  ceased.  Still,  however,  the  Vene- 
tian power  was  strong;  and  in  the  beginning  of  the 
16th  century  they  maintained  a  war  against  almost  the 
whole  power  of  France,  Germany,  and  Italy;  but  soon 
after  we  find  them  entering  into  an  alliance  with  some 
Italian  states  and  Henry  IV.  of  France,  against  the 
emperor.  These  wars,  however,  produced  no  conse- 
quences of  any  great  moment ;  and  in  1573  tranquillity 
was  restored  by  the  conclusion  of  a  peace  with  the 
Turks.  Nothing  of  consequence  happened  in  the  af- 
fairs of  the  Venetian  republic  till  IdA'S,  when  the  Turks 
made  a  sudden  and  unexpected  descent  on  the  island 
of  Candia.  The  senate  of  Venice  did  not  display  their 
usual  vigilance  on  this  occasion.  They  had  seen  tho 
immense  warlike  preparations  going  forward,  and  yet 
allowed  themselves  to  be  amused  by  the  grand  signior'a 
declaring  war  against  Malta,  and  pretending  that  the 

armament  was  intended  against  that  island.   The  troopa 

38 


« 


446 


OBEAX  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


landed  without  opposition ;  and  the  town  of  OanIsa  was 
taken,  after  an  obstinate  defence.  This  news  being 
brought  to  Venice,  excited  a  universal  indignation 
against  the  Turks ;  and  the  senate  resolved  to  defend 
to  the  utmost  this  valuable  part  of  the  empire.  Extra- 
ordinary ways  and  means  of  raising  money  were  fallen 
upon :  among  others,  it  was  proposed  to  sell  the  rank 
of  nobility.  Four  citizens  offered  100,000  ducats  each 
for  this  ho*"  lur ;  and,  notwithstanding  some  opposition, 
this  mea&ure  was  at  last  carried.  Eighty  families 
were  admitted  into  the  grand  council,  and  to  the  hon- 
our and  priveleges  of  the  nobility.  The  siege  of 
Oandia,  the  capital  of  the  island  of  that  name,  is,  in 
some  respects,  more  memorable  than  that  of  any  town 
which  history  has  recorded.  It  lasted  24  years.  The 
amazing  efforts  made  by  the  republic  of  Venice  asto- 
nished all  Europe ;  their  courage  interested  the  gallant 
spirits  of  every  nation :  volunteers  from  every  country 
came  to  Candia  to  exercise  their  valour,  to  acquire 
knowledge  in  the  military  art,  and  assist  a  brave  people 
whom  they  admired.  During  this  famous  siege,  the 
Venetians  gained  many  important  victories  over  the 
Turkish  fleet.  Sometimes  they  were  driven  from  the 
walls  of  Candia,  and  the  Turkish  garrison  of  Canea 
was  even  besieged  by  the  Venetian  fleets.  Great 
slaughter  was  made  of  the  Turkish  armies ;  but  new 
armies  were  soon  found  to  supply  their  place.  Maho- 
met IV.,  impatient  at  the  length  of  this  siege,  came  to 
Negropont,  that  he  might  have  more  frequent  oppor- 
tunities of  hearing  from  the  vizier,  who  carried  on  the 
siege.  This  war  cost  the  lives  of  200,000  Turks. 
Candia   capitulated   in   1868.      The   conditions  wcro 


fi4lt<^* 


VKMOE. 


447 


honourably  fulfilled.  Morsini,  the  Vcnctiun  general, 
marched  out  of  the  rubbish  of  this  well  disputed  city 
with  the  honours  of  war. — The  expense  of  such  a 
tedious  war  greatly  exhausted  the  resources  of  Venice, 
which  could  not  now  repair  them  wo  quickly  as  formerly, 
when  she  enjoyed  the  rich  monopoly  of  the  Asiatic 
trade.  This  republic  remained  in  :v  state  of  tranquillity, 
endeavouring,  hy  the  arts  of  peace  and  cultivation  of 
that  commerce  which  she  still  retained,  to  fill  her 
empty  exchequer,  till  she  was  drawn  into  a  new  war, 
in  1683,  by  the  insolence  of  the  Ottoman  court.  The 
Venetians  had  for  some  time  endeavoured,  by  negotia- 
tions and  many  conciliatory  representations,  to  accom- 
modate mutters  with  the  Turks ;  and  though  the 
haughty  conduct  of  their  enemies  afforded  small  hopes 
of  success,  yet  such  was  their  aversion  to  war,  that  they 
still  balanced,  whether  to  bear  those  insults  or  repel 
them  by  arms ;  when  they  were  brought  to  decision  by 
an  event  which  gave  the  greatest  joy  to  Venice,  and 
astonished  all  Europe.  This  was  the  great  victory 
gained  over  the  Turkish  army  before  the  walls  of 
Vienna,  by  Sobieski,  king  of  Poland.  In  this  new  war, 
their  late  General  Morsini  again  had  the  command  of 
the  fleets  and  armies  of  the  republic,  and  sustained  the 
great  reputation  ho  had  acquired  in  Candia.  He  con- 
quered the  Morea,  which  was  ceiled  foruiaily  to  Venice, 
with  some  other  acquisitions,  at  the  peace  of  Oarlowitz, 
in  1699.  During  the  war  of  the  succession,  the  state 
of  Venice  observed  a  stiict  neutrality.  They  con- 
sidered that  dispute  as  uncoDnocted  with  their  interests, 
taking  care,  however,  to  keop  on  foot  an  army  on  their 
frontiers   in   Italv,   of  sutiJeionl   I'urco   to  make   them 


0  • 


448 


(iREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WOR-i." 


I 


respected  by  tho  contending  powers.  But,  aeon  after 
the  peace  of  Utrecht,  tho  Venetians  were  again]attacked 
by  their  ohl  enemies,  the  Turks,  who,  beholding  the 
great  European  powers  exhausted  by  their  late  ofTorts, 
and  unable  to  assist  the  republic,  thought  this  a  favour- 
able moment  for  recovering  tho  Morea,  which  had 
been  so  lately  taken  from  them.  The  Turks  obtained 
their  object ;  and  at  the  peace  of  Passarowitz,  which 
terminated  this  unsuccessful  war,  the  Venetian  state 
yielded  up  the  Morea ;  tho  grand  seignor,  on  his  part, 
restoring  to  them  the  small  islands  of  Gerigo  and  Geri- 
gotto,  with  some  places  which  his  troops  had  taken 
during  the  course  of  the  war  in  Dalmatia.  Those,  with 
the  islands  of  Gorfu,  Santa  Maura,  Zante,  and  Geph- 
alonia,  now  form  the  republic  of  the  Seven  Islands. 
By  the  treaty  of  Gampo  Formio,  in  1797,  the  whole 
Venetian  States  were  ceded  to  the  emperor  Joseph  II. 
and  erected  into  the  province  of  Maritime  Austria. 
Verona  alone  was  annexed  to  the  Gisalpine  repub- 
lic, and  hence  now  makes  part  of  the  Italian  King- 
dom. 

Venice,  appears  at  a  distance  very  striking,  looking 
like  a  great  town  half  floated  by  a  deluge.  Betwixt 
the  city  and  the  Terra  Firma  are  a  great  many  shal- 
lows, on  which  at  low  water  you  may  almost  every 
where  touch  the  bottom  with  a  pole ;  but  all  possible 
care  is  taken  to  prevent  their  becoming  dry  land.  On 
the  south  side  of  the  city  are  also  shallows ;  but  on 
these  there  is  a  greater  depth  of  water.  The  chan- 
nels betwixt  them  are  marked  out  by  stakes  or  poles, 
which,  on  the  approach  of  an  enemy  would  certainly 
be  taken  away.     Tho  city  is  divided  by  a  vast  luinibcr 


1 1 


1 

'^M 

pi 

;  URfl*' Jl 

11 

vrxicK. 


451 


of  canals,  on  which  ply  tiie  gouilolicrs,  or  watermen,  in 
their  black  gondolas  or  boats.  The  streets  are  very 
clean  and  neat,  but  narrow  and  crooked.  There  are 
no  carriages,  nor  i^o  much  os  a  chair  to  be  seen  in  them. 
Of  the  canals,  that  callc<l  II  canale  Maggiore^  is  by 
far  the  largest  and  longest,  and  consequently  the  most 
beautiful.  Here  races  are  sometimes  run  for  prizes  in 
the  gondola;>.  On  its  banks  ate  also  several  stately 
houses.  Over  these  canals  are  a  great  number  of 
handsome  bridges  of  one  arch,  but  without  any  fence  on 
either  side  ;  they  are  also  built  of  white  stone,  with 
which  the  streets*  arc  all  paved,  except  the  Rialto  over 
the  groat  canal,  which  is  all  of  marble,  and  cost  the 
republic  2.*)0,<'00  dncats,  tlie  j'.reh  being  90  feet  wide. 
The  tinest  gondolas  are  tho.^e  in  which  the  foreign  min- 
isters make  their  public  entries,  being  richly  decorated 
with  gilding,  painting,  and  sculpture.  The  number  of 
islands  on  which  the  city  stantls,  according  to  some,  is 
60 ;  according  to  others,  72.  The  circumference  is 
about  six  Italian  miles.  The  inhabitants  are  supposed 
to  be  about  150,000,  including  tho>(>  of  the  islands 
Murano,  Guideca,  and  those  who  live  on  board  the 
barges.  The  most  remarkable  jdaccs  in  the  city  are 
the  ci-devant  ducal  palace,  the  square  and  church  of 
St.  Mark,  who  is  the  Tutela"  saint  of  Venice;  the  mint, 
public  library,  grand  arsenal,  several  of  the  palaces  of 
the  nobles,  churches,  convents,  and  hospitals.  In  these 
last  is  a  prodigious  collection  of  the  finest  paint- 
ings ;  Venice,  in  this  respect,  even  surpassing  Rome 
itself.  But  the  finest  and  best  of  them  were  carrie'l 
oiF  to  Paris  by  Bonaparte,  in  1797,  to  enrich  the 
National  Museum,  al'm>{  with  the  famous  Lo.ocoo7i,  ka, 


•  » 


\  A 


A  >\ 


i   il. 


452 


GREAT  CTTTFS  OF  THE  WOnLD. 


The  diversions  of  tlie  Venetians  ;iro  chieily  masque- 
rading, especially  diiring  the  carnival  and  other  festi- 
vals;  riJottos,  operas',  plays,  and  concerts.  During 
their  festivals,  d'bauehery,  riot,  and  licentiousness,  are 
carried  to  the  greatest  height.  The  square  of  St. 
Mark  is  the  greatest  ornament  of  the  city,  and  hath 
the  form  of  a  parallelogram.  In  this  square,  besides 
the  church  and  palace  of  St.  Mark,  are  two  towers, 
on  one  side  of  which  is  n  curious  clock  ;  and  the  other 
has  stairs  so  constructed  that  one  may  ride  up  on 
horseback.  Opposite  to  the  ducal  palace  is  the  public 
library  of  the  commonwealth  ;  containing  a  large  col- 
lection of  books  and  iMSS.  with  some  fine  paintings, 
statues,  and  curiosities,  llnrd  by  St.  Mark's  square 
is  the  Zecca,  or  mint.  The  grand  arsenal  is  two  and 
a  half  Italian  miles  in  circuit,  and  contains  vast  quanti- 
ties of  naval  and  other  warlike  stores :  here  are  the 
trophies  of  Scanderbcg  and  others,  with  the  helmet  of 
Attila,  &c.  The  rope  walk  is  444  common  paces  in 
length,  and  the  ropes  and  cables  are  valued  at  2,000,000 
of  silver  ducats.  In  the  foundery  none  but  brass 
cannon  are  cast ;  and  100  men  are  generally  at  work 
in  the  forges.  The  salt-petre  works  here  deserve  a 
traveller's  notice :  there  is  a  vessel  filled  with  wine  and 
■water  four  times  a  day,  Avhcre  the  workmen,  though 
1000  or  more,  may  drink  as  much  and  as  often  as  they 
please.  Close  to  the  Rialto  is  the  bank.  The  trade 
of  the  city  at  present  is  far  short  of  what  it  was  for- 
merly. Their  chief  manufactures  are  cloth ;  espe- 
cially scarlet,  silks,  gold  and  silver  stuffs,  brocades, 
velvets,  and  paper  of  which,  and  wine,  oil,  fruit,  sweet- 
meats, anchovies,  and  several  sorts'  of  drugs  used  in 


VENICE. 


453 


pliysic  and  painting,  the  exports  arc  still  considerable. 
Venice  has  neither  walls,  gates,  nor  citadel.  In  the 
treasury  of  relics  is  the  protocoli,  or  original  MS.  as 
tlioy  pretend,  of  St.  ^larlca  yospd :  it  is  rarely  shown  ;. 
jind  the  writing  by  length  of  time,  is  so  defaced,  that 
ilie  greatest  connoisseurs  in  MSS.  cannot  determine 
^vhether  it  was  written  in  Greek  or  Latin.  Besides 
what  is  properly  called  the  city,  there  is  a  multitude  of 
little  islands  lying  roiind,  which  are  covered  with  build- 
ings, and  make  each  of  them  a  kind  of  separate  town ; 
the  mo.-t  considerable  of  which  is  that  called  Ouideca^ 
or  the  ''Jews'  Quarter,"  which  is  Inrge  and  populous; 
with  St.  Erasnio,  St.  Helena,  St.  Georgio,  Chiosa, 
II  Lido  de  Palostrina,  11  Lido  do  Mnlamocco,  and 
Murano  :  these  islands  are  a  >\i\t  of  fence  to  the  citv, 
breaking  the  violence  of  the  wavi^s.  To  distinguish 
them  from  others,  the  Jews  here  must  wear  a  bit  of  red 
cloth  in  tlieir  hats.  The  gardens  in  this  city  are  few 
iind  inconsiderable.  In  the  island  of  Murano  are 
made  those  beautiful  looking-ghisses,  and  other  glas.^- 
works  for  which  Venice  is  so  mn  !  noted:  here  the 
family  of  Cornaro  has  a  palace,  v»'itu  a  gallery  of 
paintings,  little  short  of  an  It,\iian  mile  in  length. 
The  salt-works  in  the  island  of  Chiosa  are  of  great 
benefit  to  the  Venetians,  and  yield  a  very  con>.iderablo 
revenue.  There  are  several  other  small  isla,nds  about 
Venice,  but  they  are  inconsiderable. 

The  Venetians  arc  in  general  tall  and  well  made. 
They  are  a  lively,  ingenious  people,  extravagantly 
fond  of  public  amusements,  with  an  uncomir.on  relish 
for  humour,  and  yet  more  attached  to  the  real  enjoy- 
ments of  life  than  to  those  which  depend  on  ostentation. 

.*  O  »J' 


•S        i.S 


JOHN    8UUIESKI. 


V I E  N  N  A. 


lExsNA,  or  in  German,  Wieii,  is  the 
btW^'  capital  of  the  Au><trian  empire,  and  one 
r''^i'''ftC^^^  ^^'  ^^^^  oldest  cities  of  central  Europe. 
'WJi  It  originated,  like  many  others,  from  a 
^\,;v^%  :  M''  l^on^'^n  can\p,  e:-itablished  to  coinniiind 
vi\c^i^.'-.:c--v.'^*-''    ^\^^:,  Danube.     The  Ilonians  called  the 

place  Vindebina.  lu  the  fifth  century,  Christianity 
penetrated  U'>  the  shores  of  the  l)anul>e,  and  etirried 
civilization  \\\[U  it.  In  791.  Vienna  fell  into  the  hands 
of  Charlemagne,  who  erected  a  church,  a  schoo],  uii  1 
various  other  iuiportaut  institutions,  in  Mil,  iieiiiy, 
margrave  »f  Au-,lria,  laid  tlic  foundation  of  the  famous 
church  of  !^X.  Stephen.  ^  ionna  received  connnercial 
privileges,  and  gradually  became  nourishing. 

The  city  is  situated  upon   the  southern  bank  of  the 
Danube,  in  long.   16°  23'  E.,  lat.  43°  12'  8(J"  N.     It 
rose  in  importance  chiefly  from  the  time  it  became  lije 
(454) 


the 
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VIENNA. 


46T 


AUSTRIAN  C08T1IUK8. 

residence  of  the  German  emperors,  and  in  every  part 
shows  the  marks  of  gradual  increase.  The  city  proper 
is  small ;  but  the  thirty-foui-  suburbs  which  have  been 
sur;Q0unded  by  a  wall,  mak;.'  the  Wwubj  capital  large. 
In  18 iO,  Viemia  hud  8,77 ti  liabitatious  <uk1  42c\G0O 
iuuabitants.  Its  couunorce  au'i  ii);inaf;iciUii.'S  are  very 
\aluable,  aud  its  palaces,  churches,  literary  ;md  .scitu- 
lifio  institutions  are  highly  renowni'd.  The  streets  arc 
generally  nanow.  There  are  eight  lar£;c  and  ten 
ssnaller  public  places,  of  which  the  principal  is  Joseph's 
place,  containing  a  statue  of  the  Emperor  Jcsepli  II. 
The  palaces  are  numerous,  but  with  few  exceptions,  not 
in  good  taste.  The  imperial  castle  attracts  attention 
more  for  its  extent  and  antiquity  tiian  by  beauty  or 


,m 


n-. 


Mte  |l  i 


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m 


rf^ 


4r)8 


GRFAT  CITIKS  OP  THE  WORLO. 


sviiittietiy.  TIk;  cliureli  of  St.  Stoplicii  ifi  a  magnificent 
cditico.  ]M(>nuiTic'nts  of  prinrcs,  (/oucvals,  and  bishops, 
five  pictures  ami  thii-ty-ei<;ht  altars  adorn  its  interior. 
Its  bteeplo  is  one  of  the  loftiest  iu  Europe,  being  452 
feet  liiiih.  There  are  (hvellinic-lioiise.s  in  Vienna  with 
more  than  1,500  inhabitants,  and  yichling  an  annual 
rent  of  100,000  llorins.  Tlie  higli  ami  low  nobility 
form  a  great  contrast.  Tlie  Oeruians  arc  the  predomi- 
nating race.  Besi<les  these,  there  are  Greeks,  Italians, 
Poles,  Servians,  IJungavians,  Turks,  etc.  Tlie  Viennese 
love  jileasure  more  thiui  the  jieujdo  of  any  other 
capital  in  Europe,  and.  the  numerouH  [daces  oi  aniusc- 
meiit  are  finel}'  sustained.  The  pr.blic  gmdens  aio 
thronged.  The  opera  houses  and  tlieatres  are  nvc!1 
attended.  E:ich  person  seems  to  bo  acting  on  tlie 
advice,  "•  Eat,  drink,  and  be  merry,  for  to-mori  ow  you 
may  die." 

Vienna  was  besieged  bv  tiie  Turks  in  IG — ,  and 
reduced  to  ii'reat  straits.  But  the  rinielv  anivid  and 
victory  of  the  heroic  Juhn  Sobieski,  king  of  ['ohiiid, 
saved  the  city,  and,  i)e)lia[).-,  Euri)|)e,  from  tlio  j^nNcr 
of  the  Mahommedans  The  )eV(dutio:is  of  ih4>  <v<so 
severe  blows  to  her  prosperity,  Tiie  ci;ij;<i-.r  .iiid 
the  court  iied.  The  c;i;y  was  hc^icueii.  io,'  I'iitc 
(lays  Prince  Windiscdigr.iiz  boMiiKii-dcl  a;id  cauiK^ii- 
aded  the  city.  The  liberals  wiiliin  tlie  wails  wore 
under  the  command  of  Genor.d:-  Bern  and  r-L.'.sei- 
hauscr.  Thev  fouolit  manfuilv,  and  (lid  n(.-t  yield 
until  there  was  no  prospect  <»l'  a  successlui  ({■:  fence. 
When  Windisch;rratz  entered  A'icniia.  ir  w;!s  i-.  alv  a 
scene  of  desolation.  The  insiii'/eiKs  iiad  !"r;i  n\)  the 
pavements,  ano'   levi-dled   ]iou>e:>   i.i  iurtifv  liic  t^'ietts. 


ii^ 


k 

hi 

';  If. 

M 

Hgj 

VIENNA. 


461 


PRINOR  WlSDlfCHORATZ. 


Many  houses  had  been  destroyed  by  the  bombs  and 
canno  i  balls,  and  othera  wore  shattered.  Ruin  ap- 
peared on  every  side.  The  killed  were  lying  unburied. 
The  wounded  were  suflfering  for  want  of  attendance. 
Yet  the  imperial  commander  suffered  the  worst  portion 
of  his  army  to  roam  through  the  city,  and  appropriate 
all  the  valuables  they  could  find.  This  was  Vienna's 
time  of  woe,  misery,  and  ruin.  The  best  and  bravest 
of  her  citizens  were  condemned  to  death  with  horrid 
mockeries  of  judicial  forms ;  and  the  lash  and  dungeon 
were  the  punishments  of  many  whose  only  crimes  were 
patriotism,  and  the  love  of  civil  liberty.  This  was  the 
time  of  desolation  for  Vienna. 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14S80 

(716)  872-4503 


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PETIB  Tni  OBIAT. 


ST.   PETERSBURGH. 


T.  PETERSBURG,  the  capitnl 
of  the  Russian  empire,  is  situated 
at  the  tuouth  of  the  Neva,  at  the 
eastern  extremity  of  the  Gulf 
of  Finlant],  about  1400  miles 
N.  E.  of  I'aris  ami  London. 
The  popuhition  now  amounts  to 
about  48r>,000.  The  citv  snr- 
passes  every  uther  in  Europe  in 
beauty  and  magnificence. 

The  stranger  wanders  with  admiration  through  the 
broad,  regular  streets,  surrounded  wuth  the  most  mag- 
nificent palaces,  churciies  with  gilded  towers,  and  other 
massive  and  colossal  edifices ;  his  eyes  every  where 
rests  on  masterpieces  of  architecture.  On  entering 
the  imperial  gardens  on  the  Neva,  the  majestic  stream 
(462.) 


• 

• 

• 

• 

V 

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• 

r 

•/ 

>■ " 

'<l\ 

\ 

8T.    PETEKSBCBGH. 


4& 


CATBARINB  II. 


presents  a  fine  prospect  with  its  ships,  boats,  and 
bridges.  On  both  l)anl<s  iire  rich  palaces,  churches, 
and  towers  glittering  with  gold,  charming  islands,  and 
beautiful  gardens.  Each  side  of  the  river  is  lined  with 
a  broad  quay  for  the  dij<tance  of  nearly  three  miles. 
The  excellent  water  of  tho  Nova  supplies  the  want  of 
springs.  The  czar  Peter  the  G  reat  laid  the  foundations 
of  the  city  during  the  northern  war  (1703,)  when  he 
constructed  a  fort  on  an  island  in  the  Neva,  for  its 
defence  against  the  Swedes.  To  superintend  tho  work 
in  person,  Peter  built  a  small  wooden  hut  opposite 
it,  which  is  still  standing,  and  is  now  surrounded  with 
a  stone  building  to  preserve  it.  Public  and  private 
buildings  were  soon  erected,  and  the  nobles  and  rich 
merchants  of  Moscow,  Novogorod,  &c.,  were  induced  to 


V 


.466 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


settle  there,  so  that  in  a  short  time,  the  place  assumed 
the  appearance  of  a  considerable  city,  which,  during 
the  succeeding  reigns,  particularly  in  those  of  Catha- 
rine II.  and  Alexander,  reached  an  almost  unexampled 
degree  of  magnificence.  The  environs  are  level  and 
low,  in  many  places  consisting  of  morasses  :  they  there- 
fore suffer  from  inundations,  which  sometimes  occasion 
great  ravages ;  in  1824,  15,000  persons  perished  by  an 
inundation,  which  destroyed  many  villages,  and  caused 
great  damage  to  the  shipping.  Petersburgh  is  an  open 
city,  without  walls,  and  only  in  some  places  surrounded 
with  a  ditch.  Among  the  inhabitants  there  are  a  great 
number  of  foreigners,  particularly  Germans,  who  have 
intermixed  much  with  the  Russians,  and  fill  many  civil 
and  military  posts.  The  Neva  divides  the  city  into 
two  parts,  of  which  the  southern  or  continental  part  is 
the  largest  and  most  populous  :  the  northern  part  is 
again  divided  by  a  branch  of  the  Neva.  The  city  is 
divided  into  nine  quarters — the  three  admiralty  quar- 
ters, the  foundery,  the  Moscow,  the  Jiemskoy,  tho 
Vasili-Ostrov,  the  Petersburg,  and  the  Wibuvg  quar- 
ters. Each  quarter  is  subdivided  into  districts,  and 
these  into  inferior  sections,  at  tho  head  of  each  of 
which  is  a  police  officer,  usually  a  retired  major. 

The  whole  organization  of  the  police  is  military  ;  and 
the  military  judges  are  too  often  entirely  ignorant  of 
,the  laws.  "When  they  find  themselves  embarrassed  by 
the  contradictory  provisions  of  ditleront  ukases,  they 
cut  the  knot,  and,  if  the  parties  siiow  any  dissatis- 
faction with  the  decision,  it  is  sealed  bv  a  blow  or  a 
kick.  These  inferior  officers  of  police  are  suboidinato 
to  the  police  court  in  the  centre  of  the  eky,  ilic  prc- 


?'t 


ST.    PiiTKltSBl'UGU. 


40T 


Biding  officer  of  which  is  a  general.  In  the  admiralty 
quarter,  Nvhich  is  the  finest  part  of  the  city,  is  the  impe- 
rial  winter  palace,  on  tho  banks  of  the  Neva,  the  inte- 
rior of  which  is  aclorno(l  with  statues  and  mythological 
figures.  Catliaiine  added  to  it  a  smaller  palace,  called 
the  Ilermitaijc.  Tliis  building  contains  a  rich  collection 
of  works  of  art,  among  whicli  are  a  large  number  of  ori- 
ginal paintings  of  tho  great  masters ;  and  attached  to 
it  is  a  gaiilen,  in  whieli,  as  in  the  garden  of  Calypso, 
reigns  a  perpetual  ppring.  Some  hundred  paces  distant, 
in  the  splendid  street  called  the  Great  Million^  is  the 
MarblePalace,  of  colossal  dimensions,  which  is  built  on 
a  granite  basement,  and  was  given  by  Catharine  to  her 
favourite,  count  Oilol^.  On  tho  other  side  of  the  admi- 
ralty, which,  towards  the  land  side  is  enclosed  by  a  ditch 
and  wall,  is  a  walk  planfcil  with  beautiful  lime  trees, 
and  some  of  the  finest  buildings  of  tho  city,  particularly 
Isaac's  church,  built  entirely  of  marble  (1766 — 1812,) 
at  an  expense  of  20,500,000  roubles,  and  which  has, 
since  its  completion,  been  continually  receiving  addi- 
tional embellishments.  Not  i'ur  ofif  is  seen  the  palace 
of  the  prince  LabanofT,  a  gigantic  work,  even  for 
Petersburg,  and  built  at  an  enormous  expense.  Farther 
down,  near  the  Neva,  is  the  equestrian  statue  of  Peter 
the  Great,  cast  by  Falconet.  It  stands  in  a  spacious 
square,  on  an  imnun^e  block  of  granite,  about  the  size 
of  a  small  house,  and  weighing  above  800  tons.  In 
Ilomanzoff  place  is  a  marble  obelisk,  erected  by  Catha- 
rine, in  honor  of  Komanzofi  "s  victories,  and,  in  Suwar- 
roff  place,  a  bronze  statue  of  Suwarroff. 

Among  the  numerous  remarkable  edifices  and  insti- 
tutions, we  shall  mention  tlie  academy  of  sciences,  to 


V 


468 


GREAT   riTIES   OP  THE   WORLD. 


EQVESTRIAIf  STATUS  07  PF.TF.R  TBI  GREAT. 


which  belongs  a  very  valuable  library,  a  cabinet  of 
natural  science,  and  an  observatory ;  the  new  exchange, 
finished  in  1816,  a  splendid  building,  surrounded  by  a 
colonnade  of  44  pillars ;  the  house  of  (he  first  corps  of 
cadets,  occupied  by  nearly  4000  men,  and  embracing  a 
circuit  of  above  a  mile ;  the  spacious  building  of 
the  academy  of  fine  arts,  which,  besides  accommoda- 
tions for  300 — 400  pupils,  who  are  maintained  and 
educated  at  the  expense  of  the  crown,  contains  every 
thing  suitable  for  such  an  establishment ;  the  8ecori<l 
or  naval,  mining,  artillery,  and  engineer  cadet  corps ; 
the  university  (instituted  in  1819)  with  its  collections, 
and  above  50  public  institutions  for  education,  support ei I 
at  the  expense  of  the  state.  These  institutions  lie 
in  the  Vasili-Ostrov  (Basil's  island,)  to  which  there  it* 


ST.    lETERSBURG. 


469 


acceds  from  the  continent  by  a  bridge  of  boats.  There 
are  also  siiniliir  institutions  in  other  quarters  of  tho 
city,  particularly  tho  great  imperial  gymnasium,  an<l 
numerous  benevolent  establishments,  such  as  military 
and  other  hospitals,  the  insane  hoapital,  the  institutions 
for  the  blind,  and  for  the  deaf  and  dumb,  various  medi< 
cal  and  surgical  establishments,  the  great  foundling 
hospital,  in  which  about  5000  children  are  nursed  and 
educated,  and  in  which  the  mother  is  permitted  to  lie-in 
without  charges,  and  then  to  leave  or  take  away  her 
child,  whether  legitimate  or  not,  without  being  ques- 
tioned as  to  her  name  and  station.  With  this  is  con- 
nected tho  great  pawn-house,  in  which  loans  are  made, 
even  on  real  property. 

In  all  the  institutions  for  instruction  (as  is  also  the 
case  with  the  high  schools  throughout  the  empire,) 
Russian,  German,  and  French,  and,  in  many,  English, 
are  taught :  Latin  and  Greek  are  also  publicly  taught ; 
and  the  young  Russian  shows  a  decided  taste  for 
dancing,  music,  and  painting.  There  are  eleven  public 
libraries :  the  most  important  is  tho  imperial,  contain- 
ing 300,000  volumes  and  12,000  manuscripts. 

Among  the  palaces  should  be  mcniic.iod  the  splendid 
MichailoflF  palace,  built  by  Paul,  near .  the  summer- 
garden,  at  an  expense  of  10,000,000  roubles ;  the 
Taurian  palace,  with  its  admirable  gardens,  built  and 
occupied  by  Potemkin,  and  much  enlarged  and  embel- 
lished by  Catharine  during  his  absence.  The  roofs  of 
all  the  palaces,  and  most  of  the  houses,  arc  covered 
with  thin  iron  plates,  varnished  black  or  green.  Tho 
summer  residences  also  deserve  to  be  seen  on  tTccount 
of  their  natural  and  artificial  beauties. 

40 


470 


GREAT  CITTF.f*  OF  THF:  WORLD. 


k\\ 


KC8BU\  COSTDHU. 


Petersburg  contains  115  churches  for  the  established 
worship,  and  33  for  other  rites.  The  most  splendid 
are  Isaac's  church,  and  that  of  our  Ladv  of  Kazan : 
the  latter  is  of  great  dimensions :  the  nave  and  cupola 
are  supported  by  50  granite  columns,  with  bronze 
capitals :  the  pavement  is  of  different  kinds  of  marble, 
the  steps  to  the  choir  of  porphyry,  with  a  silver  balus- 
trade. Among  the  towers,  the  moot  remarkable  arc 
that  of  the  admiralty,  and  thnt  of  the  fortress,  of  a 
pyrami.ial  form,  and  more  t1i;in  half  covered  with 
plates  of  pure  gold.  Public  worship  is  performed  in 
fifteen  language^,  and  according  to  eleven  different 
rites.  Ov'ians  and  otlior  instrumental  music  are  not 
heard  in  the  Uucaia:!  cliurchcL',  but  singing  is  much 


ST.    PrTr.RSBlT.G. 


471 


KIDtTEA,  OR  RC8HIAN-  btEIOII. 

cultivated.  Tlioie  aro  no  scats  in  them.  The  wor- 
shippers come  and  go  at  pleasure,  and  aro  crowded 
together  without  distinction  of  rank,  each,  as  his  feel- 
ings dictate,  crossing  himself,  falling  upon  his  knees, 
touching  his  forehead  to  the  ground,  and  murmuring 
for  the  hundredth  time,  Ilospodtn  pomillny  (Lord,  have 
mercy  upon  me.)  The  Lutherans,  Calvinists,  Armeni- 
ans, &c.,  have  churches,  and  there  is  one  Mohammedan 
house  of  prayer.  The  most  remarkable  monasteries 
are  that  of  jVlexander  Newskoi  (q.  v.,)  the  residence  of 
the  metropolitan,  and  whicii  contains  in  a  silver  tomb, 
the  bones  of  the  saint,  and  the  Sniolnui  nunnery. 


^ 


V. 


MADRID. 


I 


UK  cnpital  of  Castile  and  "all 
the  Spnins"  stands  on  several 
low  hills  on  the  immense  Cns- 
tilian  plain,  which  on  thn 
north  nppears  bounded  by  tlio 
high  range  of  the  Gun  da - 
ramnn,  but  on  every  other 
side  has  no  visible  termina- 
tion. 

It  occupies  a  space  of  nearly 
4  sq.  m.,  on  a  slope  inclinin;; 
S.  S.  W.  towards  the  Man- 
zanares,  usually  an  insignifi- 
cant stream  crossed  by  two 
magnificent  bridges,  the  sizp 
and  beauty  of  which  contrast 
so  strongly  with  the  river  beneath  as  to  have  given  rise 
to  the  saying,  that  "  the  kings  of  Spain  should  sell  the 
bridges,  and  purchase  water  with  the  money."  The 
river,  however,  sometimes  swells  to  a  great  height,  and 
pours  down  a  magnificent  volume  of  water.  The  town 
is  surrounded  by  a  shabby  brick  wall,  in  which  are  15 
stone  gates,  the  handsomest  being  those  of  Alcala, 
San  Vincente,  and  Toledo.  The  interior  comprises  an 
old  and  a  more  modern  quarter,  the  former,  built  beforo 
Madrid,  was  the  metropolis  of  Spain.  The  E.  and 
(472) 


MADRID. 


478 


SPiiTfIBB  COBTUME^. 

more  moclcrn  part  Is  certainly  not  devoid  of  beauty ; 
and  its  wide  and  well-paved  stret  ts,  lined  with  liandsomo 
find  lufry  houses,  chicily  )iui!t  wiiii  briek  and  ^n-ay  gran- 
ite, the  txten.Ti\e  and  wtdl-plantod  ualka,  the  ^f^uare.^ 
with  their  defiant  fountains?,  sind  the  many  laiL't'  and  ^^(>II 
built  pu]>lic  edilices,  remind  the  iravclli-r  that  hv  u  iit 
one  of  the  lint-st,  ihon^h  perhaps  ilu;  duliV^t,  «;ipi;ais 
in  Europe. 

The  best  entrance  to  tlu'  city  ia  hv  the  Sa.aj^o.^sH 
road,  througli  the  gato  of  Alcahi,  a  n.iMc  iuiiii-  $iiur- 
ture,  with  ihi'ec  urcht'.'^,  lii'  ••(•tii.;il  i»nc  'i'"i!i;i;  TO  feet 
liigh.     Wiihin   the  walls,   w/m   :(ii(i   hi'r.   i.-<  tiie  l->ntr, 


I 


4rr 


V, 


474 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


perspective  for  moro  than  i  m.,  and  in  front  is  the  Calle 
de  Alcala^  rcacliing  into  the  heart  of  the  city,  |  m. 
in  length,  wider  than  Regent-street,  and  flanked  by  a 
splendid  range  of  unequal  buildings,  but  all  of  large 
size,  and  good  proportions.  At  its  end  is  the  great 
centre,  in  which  most  of  the  better  streets  terminate, 
and,  now  at  least  rather  inappropriately,  designated 
the  Puerta  de  Sol.  Here,  close  to  the  Bolsa^  or 
exchange,  is  the  great  morning  rendezvous,,  either  for 
business  or  pleasure.  The  best  streets  uniting  in  this 
point  are  the  Calle  Mayor,  the  Calle  de  la  Montera, 
and  the  Calle  de  las  Carretas,  all  busy  thoroughfares, 
with  good  and  showy  shops.  The  Calle  del  Arsenal, 
leads  to  the  palace,  and  the  Carrera  de  San  Geronimo 
is  the  direct  road  to  the  gardens  of  the  Buen  Retire. 
Among  the  squares  of  Madrid,  the  largest,  with  the 
exception  of  the  space  fronting  the  palace,  is  the  Plaza 
Mayor,  a  rectangular  area,  430  feet  in  length,  and  330 
feet  broad,  surrounded  by  a  uniform  range  of  stone 
buildings,  five  stories  high,  the  lower  part  being  open 
in  front,  and  supported  by  pillars  forming  a  handsome 
colonnade.  The  chief  streets  running  into  it  are  those 
of  Atocha  and  Toledo,  the  latter  passing  through  tho 
Plaza  de  Cehada  (formerly  tho  place  of  execution  for 
criminals,)  and  through  the  gate  to  the  bridge  of  its 
own  name.  None  of  these  streets,  however,  will  bear 
any  comparison  with  the  Calle  do  Alcala :  many  are 
good,  and  very  many  respectable,  tolerably  wide,  and 
formed  with  lofty  and  well  built  houses;  but  there  is 
no  other  magnificent  street.  The  bye-streets  aic  nar- 
row and  crooked,  especially  in  the  S.  W.  quarter,  Avhcro 


MADRID. 


■i  ^-■^•Si ' 


475 


decay  of  mattM-ial,  closeness  of  building,  and  extreme 
filth,  are  the  almost  unvarying  characteristics. 

Among  the  public  buildings,  the  most  conspicuous 
is  the  royal  palace,  occupying  with  its  gardens,  a  space 
of  nearly  80  acres,  on  the  East  bank  of  the  river.  It 
stands  on  the  site  of  the  old  Alcazar  of  Philip  II.  burnt 
down  in  1734,  and  has  four  fronts  of  white  stone  (each 
470  feet  in  length  and  100  feet  high,)  enclosing  a 
spacious  quadrangle.  The  interior  is  fitted  up  in  a 
style  of  costly  magnificence,  perhaps  not  surpassed  in 
any  palace  of  Europe.  The  ceilings  are  chefs-d'oeuvre 
of  Mengs,  Velasquez,  Carrado,  and.  Tiepolo;  the  rich- 
est marbles  of  Spain  adorn  its  walls,  and  the  rooms 
are  hung  with  paintings  by  the  best  masters,  and 
noble  mirrors  from  the  manufactory  of  St.  Ildefonso. 
Many  of  the  best  pictures,  however,  have  been  removed 
to  the  royal  picture-gallery  in  the  Prado.  Its  armoury 
is  especially  curious,  and  presents  numerous  specimens 
of  arms  and  accoutrements  taken  from  the  Moors  by 
Ferdinand  the  Catholic  and  his  victorious  generals. 
The  other  chief  buildings  are — the  custom-house,  a 
handsome  range  of  buildings,  320  feot  in  length ;  the 
Buena- vista  palace,  now  used  as  a  nmseum  of  civil 
engineering ;  and  the  palace  of  the  counci!  of  Castile, 
in  the  Calle  de  Alcala;  the  post-office  in  the  Puerta 
del  Sol ;  the  king's  printing-office,  in  the  Culle  de  las 
Carretas  ;  the  duke  of  Liria's  palace,  containing  a  fine 
collection  of  pictures,  near  the  gate  of  St.  Bernardino, 
in  the  N.  quarter  of  the  city  ;  the  palace  of  the  Duke  of 
Berwick;  and  the  national  gallery,  in  the  Prado. 
Madrid,  though  a  bishop's  see,  has  no  cathedral ;  but 
there  are  67   churches;   among  which,  however,   the 


47 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WOr.I.P. 


churches  of  San  Isidore  aril  the  Visitation  are  alone 
worthy  of  notice,  the  rest  being  externally  and  inter- 
nally barbarous.  "  No  mad  architect,"  says  Swin- 
burne, "ever  dreamt  of  a  distortion  of  members  so 
capricious,  of  a  twist  of  inlhirs,  cornices,  or  pediments 
so  wild  and  fantastic,  but  that  a  real  sample  of  it  may 
be  produced  in  some  one  or  other  of  the  churches  of 
Madrid.  They  are,  with  two  or  three  exceptions,  small 
and  poor  both  in  marbles  and  pictures.  Their  altars 
are  piles  of  wooden  ornaments  heaped  up  to  the  ceiling 
and  stuck  full  of  wax-lights,  which  more  than  once  have 
set  fire  to  the  whole  church." 

Previously  to  1834  there  were  66  convents  ;  but  seve- 
ral have  since  been  pulled  down  to  widen  the  streets, 
while  others  have  been  converted  to  different  and,  no 
doubt,  more  useful  purposes  than  the  maintenance,  in 
pampered  idleness,  of  hundreds  of  dissolute  monks  and 
nuns.  The  great  walks  constitute  another  grand  fea- 
ture of  the  city,  The  Prado,  or  public  promenade,  is 
as  fashionably  attended,  especially  on  Sunday,  as  \lyd,ci 
park  in  London.  It  is  nearly  2  m.  long,  and  comprises 
a  broad  walk,  called  the  salon,  flanked  by  several  of 
less  width,  thickly  shaded  with  elm  trees  :  contiguous 
to  it  is  the  garden  of  the  Buen  Jletiro,  the  palace  of 
that  name  having  been  demolisihed  ;  and  still  farther 
S.  are  the  shadv  t!;ardens  called  Las  Ddiclas,  leading 
to  the  Canal  de  Manzauaros,  wliich  whs  once  intended 
to  connect  Madrid  witli  the  Ta-:iis  j:t  Toledo.  These 
walks,  in  the  afternoons  of  autumn,  aie  crowded  with 
the  most  respectable  inhabitants,  nor  can  any  better 
idea  of  the  out-of-door  appearance  of  the  population  bo 
got   than   by  olr.scrvin.r   ilioiu  on   ilie  Prado.      In    tlie 


> 
> 


S 


I 


' 


i'l 


If  I 


Is' 
IS 


:iADRID. 


479 


spring,  however,  the  scene  is  varied  by  visits  to  Aran- 
juez,  a  beautiful  park  near  the  Tagus,  forming  a  ver- 
dant oasis  in  the  raidst  of  a  desert.  "  The  ladies," 
says  Quin,  "  wear,  with  few  exceptions,  black  silk 
dresses  and  sliawls,  or  rather  mantillas,  of  various 
colours,  while  their  head-dress  consists  only  of  a  slight 
veil  attached  to  the  hair  by  a  comb,  and  falling  on  the 
shoulder  ;  and  the  graceful  manner  in  which  they  wear 
the  mantilla  and  veil  gives  to  them  all  a  smart  and 
attractive  air.  Tht;  dross  of  the  men  is  in  every 
respect  similar  to  that  of  the  French  or  English;  but 
they  usually  cov(!r  their  persons  with  large  cloaks, 
which,  from  the  manner  of  wearing  them,  have  rather 
a  graceful  appearance. 

Madrid  is  the  Mantna  Carpotanorum  of  the  Romans, 
nnd  the  Majoritum  of  the  middle  ages.  Philip  II. 
first  made  it  the  capital  of  the  kingdom,  on  account  of 
its  central  position.  It  was  occupied  by  French  t|«||g^3 
in  1808,  and  was  the  residence  of  Joseph  Napoleon 
until  1812.  The  city  was  afterwards  occupied  by  the 
English.  During  the  French  expedition  into  Spain  in 
1823,  it  was  again  entered  by  a  foreign  army  com- 
manded by  the  duke  of  AngoulSme. 


m 


\  ; 


•¥■1- 


PARIS. 


yf^nj  ARIS,  the  capital  of  France, 
S^3  has  made  pretensions  to  be 
considered  as  the  general 
capital  of  the  civilised  world. 
London  can,  in  fact,  alone 
dispute  its  claim,  being  more 
extensive,  more  wealth^'^, 
and  the  seat  of  a  much  more 
extended  commerce ;  yet  the 
central  situation  <»f  Tarij*, 
the  peculiar  attraotions  ren- 
dering it  the  crowded  resort 
of  stranger.s,  and  its  bril- 
liant and  polished  society, 
especially  under  the  old 
monarchy,  gave  to  this  city 
a  gayer  aspect,  ami  ren- 
dered it  a  more  conspicuous  object  in  tlie  eyes  of 
Europe.  Paris  is  not  only  less  populous  than  Loudon, 
but  in  proportion  to  its  population  it  covers  lovss  irround. 
It  forms  on  both  banks  of  the  Seine  an  ellipse  of  about 
four  miles  in  length  and  thiee  in  breadth.  Tiie  principal 
streets  are  long,  narrow,  bordered  by  high  houses,  which, 
like  those  of  Edinburgh,  are  each  occupied  by  several 
families.  The  streets  of  shops  are  further  encumbered 
by  the  exhibition  of  the  merchandiie  in  front  of  the 
(480) 


t»ARrs. 


481 


doors,  a  practice  only  tolerated  in  the  most  obseure 
districts  of  British  cities.  Paris  thus  presents  generally 
a  more  gloomy  and  confuted  aspect  than  Lor».don ;  nor 
has  it  any  structure  which  can  match  the  grandeur  of 
St.  Paul's,  or  perhaps  the  beauty  of  Westminster 
Abbey ;  yet  some  of  its  quarters  contain  long  ranges 
oF  superb  and  stately  edifices,  which  London  cannot 
rival.  The  palaces  of  Paris  in  particular,  far  excel 
those  of  the  rival  metropolis.  Tho  most  distinguished 
is  the  Louvre,  finished  with  the  utmost  splendour  in  the 
style  that  distinguished  the  age  of  Louis  XIY.  Its 
front,  625  feet  long,  is  a  model  of  symmetry,  the  effect 
of  which  is  only  injured  by  the  want  of  space  before  it. 
The  Louvre  is  not  now  occupied  as  a  palace,  but  as  a 
grand  dep6t  of  the  objects  of  taste  and  art.  The 
gallery,  which  is  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  long, 
and  the  walls  of  which  are  entirely  crowded  with  paint- 
ings that  are  still  fine,  forms  a  magnificent  coup  d^ceiU 
The  hall  of  statues  is  still  adorned  with  some  of  the 
finest  specimens  of  ancient  sculpture.  The  Tuileries, 
Vhich  is  the  present  royal  residence,  was  begun  at  an 
earlier  period  than  the  Louvre,  and  carried  on  at  suc- 
cessive times ;  whence  it  exhibits  varied  and  sometimes 
discordant  features,  but  is  on  the  whole  a  noble  and 
venerable  edifice,  surrounded  with  fine  gardens  and  ave- 
nues. The  palace  of  the  Luxembourg,  on  the  south  of 
Paris,  and  the  Palais  Bourbon  on  the  west,  are  edifices 
of  great  taste  and  beauty.  The  former,  now  stripped 
of  the  famous  series  of  paintings  by  Rubens,  which  has 
been  transferred  to  the  Louvre  gallery,  affords  in  one 
part  a  place  of  assembly  for  the  Chamber  of  Peers,  and 
in  another  apartments  for  the  exhibition  of  paintings 

41 


482 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  T^'OltLD. 


by  living  artists ;  while  ilie  Palais  Eourbon  is  in  part  . 
occupied  by  the  Chamber  of  Deputies.  The  Palais 
Royal  is  no  longer  exclusivoly  a  palace,  but  is  in  part 
leased  out  to  sundry  persons,  for  purposes  partly  of 
business,  but  much  more  of  pleasure:  it  is  filled  with 
shops,  coffee-houses,  taverns,  gaming-cables,  and  every 
form  of  gaiety  and  dissipation  which  can  find  acceptance 
in  such  a  citv.  Notre  Dame,  the  ancient  cathedral  of 
Paris,  is  somewhat  heavy  and  massive,  but  the  interior 
is  richly  decorated.  The  modern  church  of  St.  Gdnd- 
vi^ve,  called  during  the  Revolution,  the  Pantheon,  was 
highly  extolled  during  its  erection,  as  destined  to 
eclipse  both  St.  Peter's  and  St.  Paul's ;  and  such  was 
the  expectation  entertained  in  France,  till,  the  scaffold- 
ing being  removed  and  the  front  thrown  open,  its  infe- 
riority became  apparent :  however,  it  is  still  an  edifice 
of  a  high  class.  The  Ma<leleine  is  one  of  the  finest 
churches  in  the  world.  It  is  of  white  marble  and  of 
Grecian  architecture.  Paris  has  no  fine  streets,  nor 
any  of  those  ample  squares  which  are  so  great  an 
ornament  of  I^ondon.  It  boasts,  however,  of  its  places,* 
"which,  without  having  the  regular  form  or  dimensions 
of  a  square,  command  admiration  by  the  ranges  of 
noble  buildings  that  surround  them. 

In  particular,  the  Place  Louis  Quinze^  standing  in 
a  central  situation  among  the  palaces,  presents  one  of 
the  most  brilliant  points  of  view  to  be  found  in  the  city. 
The  capital  possesses  great  advantages  in  the  wide, 
ornamented  spaces,  which  lie  in  the  very  heart  of  the 
city.  The  Boulevards,  tlie  ancient  rampart  of  Paris, 
when  it  was  circumscribed  within  a  much  narrower 
9ompa6s,  are  now  eo^verted  ioto  a  walk  adorned  with 


■  r,  s 


/ 


•^ 


m 


4 


*' 


PAKIS. 


485 


rows  01  trees,  and  filled  with  numerous  exhibitors  and 
vendors  of  every  thing  that  can  conduce  to  public 
amusement.  The  gardens  of  the  Tuileries  and  the 
embellished  spot  called  the  Champa  Elyaediy  are  also 
open  to  the  public. 

Perhaps  the  most  terrible  days  which  Paris  has  ever 
passed  through  were  those  of  the  insurrection  in  June, 
1848.  The  struggle  between  the  government  and  the 
socialists  lasted  four  entire  days.  Over  one  hundred 
thousand  insurgents  maintained  the  strife  against  about 
double  the  number  of  troops.  Nearly  every  part  of 
the  city  was  barricaded.  The  pavements  were  torn  up 
and  houses  pulled  down  to  supply  the  materials  for 
building  the  rude  fortifications.  General  Cavaignac 
was  made  dictator  by  the  assembly,  and  skilfully 
(trdcred  every  thing  upon  the  government  side.  The 
workingmen  foijght  bravely  and  well,  repulsing  many 
of  the  assaults  made  by  the  troops.  Even  women  and 
children  took  post  behind  the  barricades.  Upon  the 
banners  of  the  insurgents  was  inscribed  their  want — 
**  Bread !"  The  skill  and  determination  of  Cavaignac 
prevailed.  By  the  evening  of  Monday,  the  2ist  of 
June,  every  barricade  was  carried  by  the  troops,  and 
the  insurgents  gave  up  the  fight.  Order  was  restored ; 
but  Paris  was  one  great  scene  of  ruin  and  desolation. 
The  €xact  number  of  the  slain  in  this  awful  conflict 
cannot  be  ascertained.  It  is  estimated  at  20,000.  The 
soldiers  suffered  most.  A  large  number  of  the  insur- 
gents were  made  prisoners.  Some  of  the  leaders  were 
transported,  and  others  imprisoned. 


OBXAT  riBK  or  LOKSON. 


LONDON. 


IT  is  the  TJritlsli  boast,  that  London  is 
now  tlic  uu'tropolis  of  tlie  uorlJ ; 
and,  at  least,  as  the  capital  of  Great 
IJritain,  and  as  possessing  over  two 
niiliit)ns  of  inhabitants,  magnificent  cdi- 
Jiecs  and  o.\tonsivo  trade,  tlie  citv  is 
■^;?'  entitled  to  the  foremost  raidv. 

:|       London  I'otains  in  its  nrmo  an  evi- 

WV;  dencc  of  its  Gothic  ori'Mii.    Its  foundeis 

*•'-,  ^vero  iho  Tiinoliaiitcs,  by  uhose  name 

geo_iiraphoi's  lunc  dihliji!;i,!ished  it  from 

the  more  ancient  cajiital  of  »""eaiii;'.,  still  designated,  in 

the  "vvorks  printed  at  its  university,  L<>ndinurii  (Jotho- 

rum.     So  carlv  as  the  reitrn   of  Nevo,  London  had 

(48G) 


Ml 


R 


LONDON. 


489 


become  a  place  of  considerable  traffic,  as  appears  from 
Tacitus,  the  earliest  of  the  Roman  historians  who  men- 
tion it  by  name.  The  Romans  fortified  it  with  a  wall, 
and  made  it  one  of  their  principal  stations.  At  the 
beginning  of  the  third  century,  in  the  reign  of  the 
emperor  Severus,  it  is  represented  as  a  great  and 
wealthy  city,  and  considered  to  be  the  metropolis  of 
Britain.  Such  was  the  extent  of  its  commerce,  that 
we  are  told,  by  the  historian  Zosimus,  that,  in  the  year 
359,  800  vessels  belonging  to  this  place  were  employed 
in  the  exportation  of  grain.  In  the  encj  of  the  sixth 
century,  it  became  the  capital  of  the  East  Saxons, 
whose  king,  Sebert,  is  generally  reputed  the  founder 
of  the  cathedral  church  dedicated  to  Saint  Paul,  and 
of  the  ahbey  and  abbey  church  of  Westminster.  After 
the  union  of  the  seven  kingdoms,  Egbert,  in  833,  held 
here  his  first  wittenagemott,  or  council:  but  London 
was  not  constituted  the  capital  of  England,  until  its 
recovery  from  the  Danes  by  Alfred,  who  laid  the 
foundation  of  its  present  municipal  government. 

William  of  Normandy,  whose  interest  it  was  to  con- 
ciliate the  citizens,  though  he  built  the  fortress  called 
the  Tower,  to  keep  them  in  awe,  confirmed  the  privi- 
leges and  immunities  which  they  had  enjoyed  under  his 
patron  Edward  the  Confessor ;  subsequent  sovereigns 
augmented  and  extended  them  by  various  charters,  one 
of  which,  granted  by  King  John,  authorized  "the 
barons"  of  London  to  choose  a  mayor  annually,  or 
continue  the  same  person  in  that  office  from  year  to 
year  at  their  pleasure. 

The  city  attained  to  great  splendour  under  Edward 
III.,  who  held  frequent  tournays  in  Smithfield  and 


H 


!t:: 


4i 


II 


II 

J 


^1 


490 


GREAT   CITIES   OP  THE   WORLD. 


other  places ;  and  its  architecture  at  that  period  ex- 
hibited every  variety  of  the  richest  ptyle  of  Gothic, 
both  in  public  and  private  edifices.  The  cathedral  of 
St.  Paul  held  the  pre-eminence ;  and  its  spire  is  said 
to  have  been  five  hundred  and  twenty  feet  high.  The 
streets  were  mostly  narrow,  and  the  higher  stories  of 
the  houses  projected  over  the  lower.  There  were  no 
glass  windows ;  and  on  the  ground  floors  the  wares  of 
tradesmen  were  openly  displayed. 

Notwithstanding  several  visitations  of  .fire  and  pesti- 
lence, London  continued  to  increase,  especially  after 
the  accession  of  the  Tudors,  when  the  overthrow  of 
feudal  vassalage,  and  the  more  frequent  resort  to  tl  o 
capital,  caused  an  augmentation  so  rapid  as  to  alarm 
the  government.  The  dissolution  of  monasteries,  of 
which  London  contained  so  large  a  proportion,  R^celu- 
rated  this  increase,  while  it  gave  an  impulse  to  indut^try 
and  commerce.  In  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  the  influx 
of  strangers  driven  from  the  Netherlands,  by  the  per- 
secutions of  the  Duke  of  Alva,  heightened  the  alarni, 
and  the  queen  was  even  induced  to  issue  the  absurd 
and  futile  decree  that  no  more  dwellinir-honrfcs  .should 
be  built;  a  prohibition  which  does  not  seoni  for  a  moment 
to  have  retarded  the  growth  of  the  city.  Ilev  public 
spirit  was  more  sensibly  manifested  after  Sir  Thoniai* 
Gresham  had  erected  a  bourse  for  the  merchants,  which 
she  visited  in  great  state,  and  caused  to  be  proclaimed 
"The  Royal  Exchange."  In  this  reign  tlie  luxury  of 
coaches  was  introduced  from  Holland,  by  V.'iiliam 
Boones,  a  Dutchman,  who  was  appointed  coachman  to 
the  queen.  It  Avas  an  epoch  alike  intellectual  and 
prosperous,  adorned  with  the  names  of  Bacon,  Cecil, 


', ) 


n 


LONDON. 


491 


and  Walsingham ;  of  Raleigh  nnd  Drake ;  of  Shaks- 
peare,  Spenser,  and  Jonson.  Some  of  these  great  men 
also  illustrated  the  pacific  reign  of  James  I.,  scarcely 
disturbed  except  by  one  singular  event ;  the  discovery 
of  a  conspiracy  of  fanatic  Jesuits  jind  papists,  to  blow 
up  the  king  and  both  houses  of  Pailiament.  In  1636, 
the  refinements  of  Paris  and  Madrid  were  emulated  in 
London  by  the  introduction  of  hackney  coaches  and 
(sedan  chairs.  During  the  civil  wars,  the  capital  parti- 
L'ipated  in  the  troubles  that  afflicted  the  country,  and 
also  in  the  advantages,  accruing  from  the  famous  navi- 
gation act  passed  in  1651,  during  the  interregnum. 
Tlie  citizens,  secretly  alienated  from  Cromwell  and  his 
council  by  the  execution  of  the  king,  hailed  with  enthu- 
{<iasra  the  restoration  of  Charles  II.,  and  adopted  with 
indiscriminate  eagerness  the  change  of  manners  intro- 
duced by  his  court  and  followers  from  France.  The 
reign  of  Charles  II.  includes  the  most  memorable  epoch 
in  the  history  of  London.  In  1665,  a  plague  swept 
away  100,000  pei'sons.  In  September,  1666,  broke 
out  that  great  and  awful  fire  which  destroyed  400 
streets,  13,000  houses,  80  churches,  including  the  vene- 
rable cathedral  of  St.  Paul,  the  Guildhall,  the  Herald's 
College,  the  Royal  Exchange,  and  many  other  struc- 
tures. For  the  rebuilding  of  the  city  an  admirable 
plan  was  presented  by  Sir  Christopher  Wren,  tlie 
architect ;  but  the  regard  due  to  pi-ivate  property,  and 
the  difficulty  of  reconciling  conflicting  interests,  allowed 
it  to  be  but  very  partially  adopted.  He  rebuilt  tho 
cathedral  of  St.  Paul  and  most  of  tho  parish  churches 
in  the  Grecian  style,  and  the  front  of  Guildhall  in  tho 
original  Gothic,  of  Portland  stono.     Instead  of  wood 


492 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


and  plaster,  the  chief  materials  of  the  former  city,  the 
new  dwelling-houses  and  the  halls  of  the  city  companies 
were  built  of  brick,  in  the  substantial  though  heavy 
style  then  in  vogue ;  with  greater  regard  to  conveni- 
ence than  to  external  display :  ornament,  however,  of 
a  certain  kind  was  not  wanting.  In  the  streets  occu- 
pied by  traders,  gaudy  signs  with  various  devices,  in 
iron  and  gilded  brasswork,  hung  over  every  door,  or 
projected  from  every  house ;  the  simple  distinction  of 
numbering  not  having  been  adopted  or  perhaps  thought 
of.  There  were  no  flagged  footpaths ;  the  streets  were 
ill-paved ;  and  as  there  was  "no  system  of  drainage  by 
sewers,  and  no  distribution  of  pure  water  by  pipes,  they 
were  in  some  places  far  from  endurable. 

The  city,  however,  had  gained  greatly  by  the  change, 
though  with  the  sacrifice  of  many  interesting  memorials 
of  its  ancient  state,  and  of  its  most  glorious  times.  In 
1687,  the  revocation  of  the  edict  of  Nantes  by  Louis 
XIV.  gave  to  London  its  colony  of  silk  weavers.  The 
revolution  of  1688  was  efiected  without  the  slightest 
public  commotion  in  London,  except  that  which  ensued, 
on  the  sudden  return  of  James  II.  to  Whitehall,  previ- 
ously to  his  final  departure  from  the  kingdom.  The  first 
years  of  the  reign  of  William  and  Mary  were  signalized 
by  the  establishment  of  the  Bank  of  England,  the  insti- 
tution of  the  funding  system,  and  the  introduction  of 
those  changes  in  the  operations  of  commerce  by  which 
it  was  necessarily  accompanied.  ' 

London,  though  not  the  most  splendid,  is  the  clean- 
est, the  healthiest,  and  most  commodious  metropolis  in 
the  world.  It  is  well  built,  well  paved,  well-lighted, 
and  abundantly  supplied  with  water  for  the  all-import- 


LONDON. 


493 


ant  object  of  preventing  conflagration.  Foreigners 
who  visit  it  for  the  first  time  soon  discover  that  utility, 
not  ornament,  is  the  main  characteristic  of  the  town, 
and  that  business,  not  amusement,  occupies  the  minds 
of  its  inhabitants.  The  main  streets  are  spacious ;  and 
all  the  streets  have  the  advantage  of  flia-gged  foot-pave- 
ments on  each  side.  The  houses  are  of  brick;  and 
though  in  the  most  populous  streets  discoloured  by 
smoke,  have  by  no  means  a  gloomy  appearance.  Having 
been  built  at  various  periods,  and  chiefly  on  the  site  of 
old  streets  or  along  the  lines  of  roads,  the  metropolis 
can  lay  no  claim  to  regularity  of  plan  ;  some  parts  are 
regular,  others  irregular :  but  it  is  for  that  reason  more 
agreeable  than  if  it  had  been  a  parallelogram  of  streets 
intersecting  each  other  at  right  angles,  than  which 
nothing  can  be  more  wearisome  to  the  eye,  especially 
if,  as  in  the  new  town  of  Edinburgh,  the  walls  be  built, 
and  the  streets  paved,  with  stone  of  the  same  grey 
colour,  producing  an  effect  which  may  truly  be  called 
dismal.  The  charm  of  London,  as  a  great  city,  is  its 
variety.  Those  who  dislike  the  high-piled  and  narrow 
streets  of  the  city,  shady  in  summer,  and  sheltered 
from  cold  winds  in  winter,  may  delight  in  the  spacious 
streets  and  squares  of  the  west  end  of  the  town :  those 
who  desire  to  contemplate  what  Dr.  Johnson  called 
"the  full  tide  of  human  existence,"  may  visit  Cheap- 
side,  Fleet  Street,  or  the  Strand ;  Pull  Mall,  and  St. 
James'  Street,  by  some  fortunate  peculiarity  of  posi- 
tion, not  easily  defined,  look  light  and  cheerful  in  the 
heaviest  weather ;  Bond  Street  is  still  the  resort  of 
gaiety  and  fashion ;  and  Regent  Street,  for  architect- 
ural effect,  is  the  grandest  street  in  Europe.     Great 

42 


4t- 


RmmnmrammMmnai 


494 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THK  WORLD. 


improvements  have  been  inude  on  the  north  side  of  the 
Strand  from  Charing  Cross  to  J5urleigh  Street,  by 
taking  down  an  iiuuienbc  muss  of  isuiall  and  oM  houses, 
juirtly  in  narrow  streets  and  court.s,  and  erecting  others 
of  large  dimensions,  and  forming  wide  and  handsome 
streets.  Here  also  has  been  erected  the  elegant  and 
commodious  .structure  of  Ilunjrerford  Market.  Another 
improvement  is  that  of  opening  a  line  northward  from 
Bridge  Stieet,  Blackfriars,  through  the  site  of  Fleet 
Market  and  across  CUMkenwell,"to  Islington  :  a  parallel 
line  extends  from  Waterloo  Bridge  across  the  Strand, 
past  the  portico  of  Coven t  Garden  Theatre,  and  into 
the  northern  district  of  the  metropolis.  . 

London  is  the  chief  literary  emporium  of  the  king- 
dom, and  the  centre  of  intelligence  in  relation  to  aftaira 
at  home  and  abroad.  The  number  of  books  and  news- 
papers annually  published  is  astonishing.  Of  the  great 
names  that  have  adorned  the  science  and  literature  of 
England  the  world  has  heard.  Most  of  them  resided 
in  London.  No  land  has  produced  men,  supeiior  in 
scientific  pursuits  to  Bacon,  Newton,  Locke,  Boyle,  and 
JIarvey.  The  stimulus  and  the  knowledge  they  have 
given  to  the  human  mind  can  never  be  too  highly  esti- 
mated. To  Bacon  belongs  the  glory  of  that  scientific 
method  of  reasoning  which  has  led  to  so  many  grand 
discoveries.  Around  the  head  of  Newton  is  twined  a 
wreath  of  stars  whose  light  can  never  dim.  The  "  Prin- 
cipia"  taught  men  the  nature  of  the  mighty  system  of 
which  they  form  a  part.  Locke  was  the  first  to  give 
a  clear  view  of  the  operations,  weaknesses,  and  capaci- 
ties of  the  understanding  of  man.  Boyle  comunicated 
an  immense  amount  oflnformation  in  regard  to  natural 


LONDON'. 


495 


history,  llurvey  first  flisclo.sc<l  the  fact  of  the  circu- 
lation oi'  tlie  bl<)0<i,  upon  wliich  much  of  the  modern 
system  of  medicine  is  foiuidtd.  in  rcgiucl  to  litera- 
ture, Lotulon  Ciin  boast  of  as  brij;lit  a  galaxy  of 
names  as  any  city  of  ancient  or  modern  times.  V/il- 
llaui  iShakspeare,  tlic  "myriad  n)inded,"'  stands,  j)er- 
haps,  nne.iuallcd  as  a  dramatic  poet.  Jonson,  Dekker, 
Webster,  Marlowe,  and  olhoi's  of  the  same  jteiiod  vere 
admirable  «lramatists.  Con^rcve,  Sheridan,  FarquJiar, 
Vanhrugh,  GoldsmiLh,  Knowlcs,  and  Uourcicalt,  are 
renowned  in  the  annals  of  the  same  art.  Chaucer, 
Spenser,  Milton,  Dryden,  Pope,  Cowper,  Coleridge, 
and  others  wrote  poetry  that  will  live  with  the  lan- 
guage. Addison,  Johnson,  Bunyan,  Goldsmith,  and  u 
throng  of  other  prose  writers  deserve  immortal  remem- 
brance. In  the  great  age  of  George  III.  oratory  was 
cultivated  with  a  success  almost  unrivalled.  Fox,  Pitt, 
Burke,  and  Sheridan  were  its  chief  masters. 


if 


f  I 


»i9X  er  ixiLAitB. 


QUEBEC. 


UEBEC,  the  capital  of  Lower  Canada, 
is  one  of  the  strongest  cities  in  Ame- 
rica, and  one  of  the  most  famous  for 
its  historical  associations.  It  was 
founded  by  the  French  in  1608.  In 
1759,  the  gallant  English  general, 
Wolfe,  surmounted  the  heights  of 
Abraham,  and  defeated  Montcalm, 
the  brave  defender  of  Quebec.  Both 
commanders  lost  their  lives.  The  city  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  English.  The  French  under  M.  de  St.  Levi  made 
an  attempt  to  retake  it,  but  failed.  At  the  ensuing 
peace,  Quebec  was  ceded  with  the  rest  of  Canada  to  the 
English.  (1763.)  In  1775  the  patriots  of  the  United 
Colonies,  under  the  command  of  Montgomery  and 
Arnold  made  an  attempt  upon  Quebec,  but  were  re- 
pulsed. The  brave  Montgomery  fell.  The  American 
loss  was  about  700  men.  The  city  has  ever  since 
remained  in  the  hands  of  its  first  conquerors. 

Quebec  is  situated  on  a  promontory  on  the  side  of 
the  St.  Lawrence,  180  miles  below  Montreal,  nearly 
400  miles  from  the  sea,  700  west  by  north  from  Hali- 
fax, and  740  from  Washington. 

The  population  of  the  city  and  suburbs  is  stated  at 
about  50,000.     By  far  the  greater  part  of  the  inhabi- 
tants are  Roman  Catholics,  and  the  French  language 
(496) 


QUEBEC. 


4B» 


is  most  in  use.  The  promontory  on  wliicli  Quebec  i» 
built  is  formed  by  the  St.  Jiawrenco  and  St.  Charles, 
and  is  the  termination  of  a  ridgo  of  land,  generally 
from  one  to  two  miles  wido,  which  runs  from  cast  to 
west.  On  the  north  it  has  the  bold  promontory  of  Capo 
Diamond,  rising  almost  perpendicularly  345  feet  abovo 
the  water  ;  and  across  it  at  the  north-east,  or  lower  end, 
the  city  is  built.  The  fortifications  extending  across 
the  peninsula,  shut  in  the  ground  on  which  the  city 
stands,  the  circuit  of  Avhich  is  about  two  and  a  half 
miles.  It  is  divided  into  two  parts,  upper  and  lower. 
Upper  Quebec  is  situated  on  the  side  of  Capo  Diamond, 
which  slopes  to  the  north,  towards  the  river  St.  Charles. 
It  is  separated  from  the  lower  town  by  a  line  of  steep 
rocks,  which  run  from  the  cape  towards  the  west.  The 
lower  town  is  situated  immediately  under  Cape  Dia- 
mond, on  ground  coTif-idcrably  raised,  to  prevent  its 
being  overflowed,  as  formerly  at  flood  tide.  The  streets 
run  from  the  upper  side  of  Cape  Diamond  down  to  the 
St.  Charles,  a  distance  of  about  half  a  mile.  They  are 
of  considerable  breadth,  and  the  houses  are  large  and 
commodious.  The  houses  next  the  river  have  very 
extensive  warehouses  attached  to  them,  and  vessels 
come  close  to  the  wharves  to  discharge  their  cargoes. 
The  communication  from  the  lower  to  the  upper  town 
is  by  a  winding  street,  at  the  top  of  which  is  a  fortified 
gate.  "  Quebec,"  says  Professor  Silliman,  "  for  an 
American  city,  is  certainly  a  very  peculiar  town :  a 
military  town — most  compactly  and  permanently  built — 
stone  its  sole  material — environed,  as  to  its  most  import- 
ant parts,  by  walls  and  gates — and  defended  by  numer- 
ous heavy  cannon — garrisoned  by  troops,  having  the 


Ml* 


ili 


i 


11^ 


>  >., 


600 


GREAT  CITIES   OP  THE   WORLD. 


arms,  the  costume,  tho  music,  the  discipline  of  Europe — 
foreign  in  language,  features  and  origin,  from  most  of 
those  whom  they  are  sent  to  defend — founded  upon  a 
rock,  and  in  its  higher  parts  overlooking  a  great  extent 
of  country — between  three  and  four  hundred  miles  from 
the  ocean — in  the  midst  of  a  great  continent,  and  yet 
displaying  fleets  of  foreign  merchantmen,  in  its  fine, 
capacious  bay,  and  showing  all  the  bustle  of  a  crowded 
seaport — its  streets  narrow,  populous,  and  winding  up 
and  down  almost  mountainous  declivities — situ  ted  in 
the  latitude  of  the  finest  parts  of  Europe — exhibi/mg  in 
its  environs  the  beauty  of  a  European  capital,  and  yet, 
in  winter,  smarting  with  the  cold  of  Siberia — governed 
by  people  of  different  language  and  habits  from  the 
mass  of  tho  population — opposed  in  religion,  and  yet 
leaving  that  population  without  taxes,  and  in  the  full 
enjoyment  of  every  privilege,  civil  and  religious.  Such 
are  some  of  the  important  features  which  strike  a 
stranger  in  the  city  of  Quebec."  The  upper  town  is 
the  seat  of  government:  and  the  principal  residence  of 
the  military.  Great  improvements  have  recently  been 
made  in  the  style  of  buildings,  and  many  of  the  private 
dwellings,  and  several  of  the  public  buildings  are  spa- 
cious and  elegant.  There  is  a  French  seminary  or 
college,  containing  usually  more  than  200  pupils ;  but 
much  less  attention  is  paid  to  education  than  in  the 
principal  cities  of  the  United  States.  Quebec  is  better 
fortified  than  any  other  town  in  America.  Its  strength 
has  been  greatly  increased  within  a  few  years.  It  is  so 
well  defended  at  all  points,  as  to  render  it  abundantly 
adequate  to  repel  any  force  that  could  approach  it. 


i 


'     •    > 


l*^^ 


NEW  YORK. 


HE  city  of  New  York  is  tho 
metropolis  of  America.  In 
wealth,  commerce  and  popu- 
lation it  is  far  beyond  every 
other  city  upon  the  continent. 
It  is  situated  on  Manhattan 
Island,  at  the  confluence  of 
Hudson  or  North  river  with  a 
strait  called  East  river,  which 
connects  Long  Island  sound  with  the  harbour  of  New 
York. 

The  mouth  of  the  Hudson  river  was  discovered  by 
Henry  Hudson,  an  English  navigator,  in  September, 
160n.  In  1612,  the  Dutch  erected  a  fort  on  Manhat- 
tan island,  and  began  a  settlement,  which  they  named 
New  Amsterdam.  In  1014,  an  English  expedition 
under  Captain  Argal,  took  possession  of  the  Dutch 
fort ;  but  the  English  government  afterwards  agreed  to 
let  it  remain  in  the  hands  of  the  Dutch  for  GO  years. 
In  1629,  tho  Dutch  enlarged  their  fort  and  settle- 
ment, and  appointed  Wouter  Van  Twillcr  governor, 
and  he  held  the  office  for  9  years.  In  1647,  Governor 
Stuyvesant  arrived.  He  held  the  office  until  1664, 
when  the  English  took  possesion  of  tho  town,  and  named 
it  New  York,      t 

The  Dutch  retook  the  city  in  July  1673,  but  surrcn- 

..  rooi) 


it. 


i 


602 


GREAT  CITIES  01'  THE  WORLD. 


dered  it  to  the  English  in  the  next  year.  All  the 
inhabitants  were  then  required  to  take  the  oath  of 
allegiance  to  the  English  government.  In  1686,  James 
II.  abolished  the  representative  system  at  New  York, 
and  forbade  the  use  of  printing  presses.  In  1711,  a 
Blave-market  was  established  in  Wall  street,  near  the 
East  river,  and  in  the  next  year  there  was  an  insurrec- 
tion of  the  negroes,  who  fired  the  city  in  several  places, 
and  killed  some  of  the  inhabitants.  Nineteen  of  them 
were  executed.  In  1741  occurred  the  famous  "ne^ro 
plot,"  when  the  city  contained  12,000  inhabitants,  one- 
sixth  of  whom  were  slaves.  A  plot  no  doubt  existed, 
but  the  account  of  it  was  greatly  exaggerated  and  the 
fears  of  the  inhabitants  excited  by  repeated  fires  and 
robberies.  Some  Irish  Catholics  were  implicated  with 
the  negroes.  One  hundred  and  fifty  negroes  and  twenty 
white  persons  were  committed  to  prison ;  of  whom  55 
were  convicted  and  78  confessed.  Thirteen  negroes 
were  burned  at  the  stake,  at  the  present  intersection 
of  Pearl  and  Chatham  streets ;  20  were  hung,  one  in 
chains  ;  78  were  transported  and  50  discharged.  This 
was  a  period  of  fearful  excitement.  At  the  time  of 
the  passage  of  the  Stamp  Act  and  other  oppressive 
measures  by  the  British  parliament,  the  people  of  New 
York  displayed  their  attachment  to  liberty  by  the  burn- 
ing of  effigies.  On  the  20th  of  August,  1776,  after  the 
disastrous  battle  of  Long  Island,  the  city  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  British ;  and  on  the  21st  of  September, 
in  the  same  year,  a  great  fire  consumed  493  houses, 
nearly  one-eighth  of  the  city.  New  York  was  not  long 
in  recovering  from  this  desolating  calamity.  The  inhab- 
itants were  cntcrpy.'.-iM^!;,  and  their  wealth  and  industry 


\ 


l^'ixt, 


NEW    YORK. 


503 


i  rebuilt  the  burned  district.     The  city  remained  in 
lie  hands  of  the  British  until  the  close  of  the  war  of 
independence.     On  the  25th  of  November,  1783,  the 
enemy  evacuated  New  York,  and  Gen.  Washington  and 
his  army  soon  after  entered  it.     A  large  number  of 
tories  accompanied  the  British  in   their  retreat.     In 
1785,  the  first  Congress  of  the  United  States,  after 
the  war,  was  organized  in  the  City  Hall  at  the  corner 
of  Wall  and  Nassau  streets,  and  in  April  four  years 
afterwards,  Washington  was  inaugurated  President  of 
the  United  States,  in  this  city.     New  York  rapidly  in- 
croiised  in  size,  wealth,  population,  and  commerce,  and 
took  rank  as  the  most  important  city  of  America.   The 
clinlora  in  1832  and  the  great  fire  in  1835  could  not 
check  the  metropolis  in  its  onward  career.     The  fire 
recurred  on  the  night  of  the  16th  of  December,  1835, 
and  swept  over  between  30  and  forty  acres  of  the  most 
valuable  part  of  the  city,  covered  with  stores  and  filled 
with  merchandize.     The  number  of  buildings  burned 
was  048,  and  the  amount  of  property  destroyed  was 
estimated  at  $18,000,000.     But  the  burnt  district  was 
immediately  rebuilt,  with  additional  convenience  and 
beauty.     Since  that  event,  New  York  has  rapidly  in- 
creased in  wealth  and  population.  According  to  the  cen- 
sus of  1850,  the  city  contains  510,000  inhabitants.   But 
Brooklyn  on  Long  Island,  Williamsburg  on  the  East 
River,  Jersey  City  and  New  Brighton  on  Staten  Island, 
and  other  important  towns  should  be  considered  as 
parts  of  New  York — their  business  being  interwoven 
with  that  of  the  main  city,  and  their  residents  for  the 
most  part  being  connected  with  or  dependent  upon  the 
same  great  commerce  which  has  peopled  this  quarter. 


i 


I  i 


504 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


With   these  suburbs,  New  York   has   about  700,000 
inhabitants. 

The  compact  part  of  the  city  is  situated  on  the  S. 
end  of  New  York,  or  Manhattan  Island.  The  chartered 
limits  embrace  the  whole  island,  which  is  of  the  same 
extent  with  the  county.  The  island  extends  from  the 
Battery,  on  the  S.  point  of  the  island,  13 J  m.  to  Kings- 
bridge,  in  its  N.  part ;  and  has  an  average  breadth  of 
1  m.  and  three-fifths.  The  greatest  breadth  is  on 
the  line  of  88th  street,  where  its  breadth  is  about 
2^  m.  and  it  contains  about  14,000  acres.  It  is 
bounded  on  the  N.  by  Harlem  river ;  on  the  E.  by  East 
river  or  strait,  which  separates  it  from  Long  Island ; 
on  the  S.  by  the  harbour ;  and  on  the  W.  by  Hudson 
river,  which  separates  it  from  New  Jersey.  It  is  con- 
nected with  the  main  land  on  the  north  by  three 
bridges,  Harlem  bridge,  Macomb's  brid  ^e,  and  King's 
bridge.  It  is  connected  with  Long  Island  by  seven  fer- 
ries, four  of  which  proceed  to  Brooklyn,  and  three  to 
Williamsburg.  Thus  the  insular  situation  of  New  York 
proves  no  serious  disadvantage.  The  ferries  to  Brook- 
lyn are  by  far  the  most,  important,  as  many  persons 
who  do  business  in  New  York  reside  in  that  city. 
The  harbour  is  spacious  and  safe,  the  inner  harbour 
extending  8  m.  from  the  Narrows  to  the  city,  and 
several  miles  farther  up  both  the  North  and  East  rivers, 
but  particularly  the  latter.  It  is  about  25  m.  in  cir- 
cumference, and  the  largest  vessels  come  to  its  wharves. 
Besides  this,  it  has  an  outer  harbour,  extending  from 
the  Narrows  to  Sandy  Hook,  consisting  of  Raritan  bay. 
Sandy  Hook,  on  which  is  a  light  house,  is  18  m.  from 
the  city ;  and  at  this  point,  there  are  27  f oet  of  water 


al 

vj 
bl 


I 


NEW   YORK. 


505 


on  the  bar  at  high  tide,  and  21  feet  at  low  tide. 
Within  Sandy  Hook  there  ia  a  good  anchorage.  The 
harbour  is  entered  not  only  from  the  ocean  at  Sandy 
Hook  and  through  the  Narrows,  but  on  the  N.  E.  from 
Long  Island  sound,  and  on  the  S.  W.  through  the  Kills 
and  Staten  Island  sound.  By  an  accurate  enumeration 
made  March  16th,  1844,  there  were  found  to  be  1011 
vessels  in  the  harbour  of  New  York,  viz.,  121  ships,  43 
barques,  101  brigs,  two  galliots,  208  schooners,  and  536 
ordinary  sloops  and  schooners,  all  of  which  are  licensed 
at  the  custom  house,  lying  at  a  total  extent  of  about  7 
m.  of  wharves.  To  these  should  be  added,  when  the 
Hudson  river  opens,  about  90  steamboats,  90  tow  boats 
of  from  100  to  400  tons  burden,  and  200  canal  boats. 
Several  islands  within  the  inner  harbour  are  attached  to 
the  city,  which  are  Governor's,  Bedlow's,  and  Ellis's 
islands,  on  all  of  which  are  strong  fortifications ;  and 
Blackwell's,  Great  Barn,  and  Randall's  islands,  in  the 
East  river.  The  excellence  of  its  harbour,  and  other 
great  natural  advantages,  have  contributed  Jo  make  New 
York  the  second  commercial  city  on  the  globe. 

The  surface  of  the  island  was  originally  uneven  and 
rough,  as  is  now  thf^  case  in  the  northern  parts,  with 
occasional  low  valleys  and  marshy  swamps ;  but  the 
hills  in  the  southern  part  of  the  island  have  been 
levelled,  and  the  swamps  and  marshes  filled  up.  Many 
creeks  and  inlets  on  the  margins  of  the  rivers  have  also 
disappeared,  and  the  large  ledge  of  rocks  which  occu- 
pied the  site  of  the  Battery,  has  long  since  been  buried 
beneath  the  made  ground  wliieh  constitutes  that  beau- 
tiful promenade. 
,    The  streets  were  ori;'lnal]v  luid  out  according:  to  the 


1^ 


IV 


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i 


3 


i 


M 


606 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


make  of  the  ground,  and  some  of  them  were  crooked ; 
and  in  imitation  of  European  cities,  many  of  them  were 
narrow.  But  in  later  times  they  have  been  widened 
and  improved  at  a  great  expense.  As  instances  of  this 
among  others,  John  street  and  West  Broadway  may  be 
particularly  mentioned  as  well  as  many  others.  Tn 
latter  times  care  has  been  taken  to  lay  out  the  streets 
straight,  and  of  an  ample  width.  This  is  particularly 
true  of  all  the  N.  part  of  the  city,  which  was  laid  out 
under  the  direction  of  Governeur  Morris,  De  Witt 
Clinton,  and  others,  commissioners  appointed  by  the 
legislature  for  this  purpose,  and  surveyed  by  Mr. 
John  Bandall,  Jr.,  completed  in  1821,  after  having 
occupied  ten  years.  No  city  can  exhibit  a  more  beau- 
tiful plan  than  this  portion  of  the  city  of  New  York, 
which  extends  to  154th  street,  about  ten  miles  N.  of 
the  Battery. 

Broadway  extends  from  the  Battery  3  m.  to  Union- 
square,  where  it  joins  the  fourth-avenue.  It  is  80  feet 
wide,  perfectly  straight,  occupies  the  height  of  land 
between  the  two  rivers,  and  has  generally,  particularly 
in  its  S.  part,  an  excellent  drainage.  It  is  well  built, 
with  many  fine  houses,  and  large  retail  stores.  It  is 
the  great  promenade  of  the  city,  and  much  resorted  to 
in  pleasant  weather  by  the  gay  and  fashionable.  Pearl- 
street,  between  Broadway  and  the  East  river,  is  in 
a  crescent  form,  over  a  mile  long,  and  is  the  principal 
seat  of  the  wholesale  dry  goods  and  hardware  business, 
which  has  also  extended  into  Cedar,  Pine,  and  other 
adjacent  streets.  Water  and  Front  streets,  between 
Pearl-street,  and  the  East  river,  is  occupied  chiefly  by 
wholesale  grocer?,  commission  merchants,  and  mecha- 


i 


'♦' 


.*/;*; 


tJi- 


NEW   YORK. 


607 


^...Jl^'\    ^i.,tiLmJ^ 


nics  connected  with  the  shipping  business.  South- 
street,  extending  along  the  margin  of  East  river, 
contains  the  warehouses  and  offices  of  the  principal 
shipping  merchants.  In  front  of  it  is,  at  all  times,  a 
dense  forest  of  masts.  V/all-street  extends  from  Broad- 
way to  the  East  river,  and  is  occupied  by  banks,  insu- 
rance offices,  newspaper  and  brokers'  offices,  has  Trinity 
church  at  its  head,  the  Custom-house  and  Merchant's 
Exchaiige,  and  many  fine  granite  buildings,  which  has 
caused  it  to  be  denominated  the  granite  street ;  and  ia 
the  centre  of  the  heaviest  money  transactions  in  the 
United  States.  The  Bowery  is  a  wide  and  extensive 
street  E.  of  Broadway,  running  N.  and  S.  connected 
with  the  Third  avenue,  which  is  Macadamized  to  Har- 
lem, and  forms  the  principal  entrance  to  the  city  from 
the  N.  E.  East  Broadway,  and  parallel  to  it  Madison, 
Henry,  and  Monroe  streets,  running  a  little  N.  of  E. 
and  S.  of  W.,  are  broad  and  straight  streets,  and  hand- 
somely built.  Bleeker,  Bond,  and  other  streets  in  the 
N.  part  of  the  city  are  beautifully  built,  and  have 
become  a  fashionable  place  for  residences.  Canal- 
street,  half  a  mile  N.  of  the  City-hall,  and  now  much 
below  the  centre  of  the  population,  is  a  wide  street, 
with  a  large  covered  canal  under  it,  is  occupied  exten- 
sively by  stores,  and  is  the  seat  of  an  extensive  retail 
business.  It  crosses  Broadway,  rparly  at  right  angles, 
and  extends  to  Hudson  river.  There  are  other  streets 
which  deserve  a  particular  notice,  especially  Greenwich - 
street,  a  long,  wide,  and  nearly  straight  street,  extend- 
ing N.  from  the  Battery  nearly  two  miles  and  a  half, 
parallel  to  Hudson  river,  which  has  many  stores  and 
fine  buildings ;  and  Hudson  street  E.  of  it,  and  paralU  1 


t.i\ 


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'Mi 


•  I 


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F    '•I 


608  GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 

to  it,  whicli  is  wide  and  straight,  extending  from  Cham- 
bers-street to  the  ninth  avenue,  over  a  mile  and  three 
quarters  long,  and  well  built  in  many  of  its  parts. 

i  Chatham-street,  named  in  honour  of  the  Earl  of  Chat- 

V  ham,  extending  from  Broadway  to  Chatham-square,  at 
the  commencement  of  the  Bowery,  is  a  great  thorough- 
fare, and  particularly  distinguished  for  its  numerous 
clothing  stores. 

The  city  must  be  considered  somewhat  deficient  in 

*  public  grounds  or  places,  but  it  has  several  important 
ones.  In  addition  to  several  triangular  areas,  as  Hano- 
ver-square, Franklin-square,  and  Chatham-square,  aa 
they  are  denominated,  with  some  others  of  a  like 
description,  there  are  several  more  important  public 
places.  The  Battery^  at  the  south-eastern  end  of  the 
island,  is  situated  at  the  junction  of  Hudson  and  East 
riv#rs.  It  is  in  thp  form  of  a  crescent,  and  contains 
about  11  acres  of  ground,  beautifully  laid  out  with  grass- 
plats  and  gravelled  walks,  and  shaded  with  trees.  Cas- 
tle Garden  is  built  on  a  mole,  and  connected  with  the 
Battery  by  a  bridge.   It  was  originally  erected  as  a  for- 

^  tification,  and  having  become  unnecessary  for  this 
purpose,  was  ceded  by  the  United  States  to  the  corpo- 
ration of  the  city  in  1823.  Within  its  walls  10,000 
people  can  be  accommodated  in  a  great  amphitheatre ; 
and  it  is  used  for  public  meetings  and  exhibitions.  The 
Bowling  Green  at  the  southern  termination  of  Broad- 
way, is  an  elliptical  area,  220  feet  long  and  140  broad, 
enclosed  by  an  iron  fence.   It  was  established  before  the 

;  American  Revolution,  and  formerly  contained  a  leaden 
statue  of  George  III.,  which  was  converted  into  bullets 
at  that  period. 


NEW   YORK. 


509 


The  Park,  called  in  early  times  the  Commons,  is  a 
triangular  area  of  about  lOf  acres,  lying  between 
Broadway,  Chatham-,  and  Chambers  streets,  is  laid  out 
with  walks,  and  planted  with  trees,  and  surrounded 
by  an  iron  fence,  which  cost  over  $15,653.  It  contains 
the  City-IIall,  the  New  City-Hall  or  old  Almshouse, 
and  the  PoHt-ofilice.  It  has  also  toward  its  S.  part,  a 
public  fountain,  within  a  basin  about  100  feet  in  dia- 
meter, which  has  a  variety  of  jets,  which  are  occa- 
sionally changed. 

Union  place,  at  the  northern  termination  of  Broad- 
way, is  in  an  elliptical  form,  enclosed  with  a  fine  iron 
fence,  having  a  public  fountain  in  the  centre,  with 
ornamental  jets ;  and  when  the  vicinity  shall  be  more 
densely  settled,  will  be  a  delightful  breathing  place  to 
the  inhabitants.  All  these  public  grounds  are  much 
frequented  in  the  summer  season.  Farther  up  the 
city  are  other  public  squares,  as  Madison-square, 
Hamilton-square,  and  others.  On  the  E.  are  Tomp- 
kins'-square  and  Bellevue,  the  latter  the  seat  of  the 
new  almshouse. 

The  city  of  New  York  has  some  superb  public  build- 
ing^. The  most  splendid  of  these  is  the  Merchant's 
Exchange,  which  covers  the  whole  space  between  Wall, 
William,  Exchange,  and  South  William  streets.  It 
has  a  somewhat  confined  situation,  and  shows  to  less 
advantage  than  if  it  were  surrounded  by  open  grounds. 
It  is  built  in  the  most  substantial  form  of  blue  Quincy 
granite,  and  is  200  feet  long  by  171  to  144  feet  wide, 
77  feet  high  to  the  top  of  the  cornice,  and  124  to  the 
top  of  the  dome.  The  front  on  Wall  street-  has  a 
recessed  portico  of  18  massive  Grecian-Ionic  columns, 

43* 


II 


ii'- 


f-  f 


III 


liir 


«:9««a> 


610 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


88  feet  high,  and  4  feet  4  inches  in  diameter,  each 
formed  from  a  solid  block  of  stone,  and  weighing  43 
tons.  It  required  the  best  application  of  the  mechanical 
powers,  aided  by  horses,  to  raisd  these  enormous 
masses.  Besides  numerous  other  rooms  for  various 
purposes,  the  Exchange  in  the  centre  is  in  a  circular 
form,  80  feet  in  diameter,  with  four  recesses,  making 
the  length  and  breadth  each  100  feet,  the  whole  80 
feet  high,  surmounted  with  a  dome,  resting  in  part  on 
eight  Corinthian  columns  of  Italian  marble,  41  feet 
high,  and  lighted  by  a  skylight  25  feet  in  diameter. 

The  Custom  house  is  a  splendid  building,  constructed 
in  the  Doric  order  of  Grecian  architecture.  It  is  built 
in  the  most  substantial  manner  of  white  marble,  some- 
thing after  the  model  of  the  Parthenon  at  Athens,  at 
the  head  of  Broad  street,  on  the  corner  of  Nassau  and 
•Wall  streets.  The  building  is  200  feet  long,  90  feet 
wide,  and  80  feet  high.  At  the  S.  end  on  Wall-street, 
is  a  portico  of  eight  purely  Grecian-Doric  columns,  5 
feet  8  inches  in  diameter,  and  32  feet  high ;  and  on 
the  N.  end  on  Pine  street  is  a  corresponding  portico  of 
similar  columns.  The  front  portico  is  ascended  by  18 
marble  steps,  and  the  rear  portico  on  Pine-street,  by 
only  three  or  four  marble  steps.  It  is  two  lofty  stories 
high  above  the  basement  story.  The  great  business 
hall  is  a  splendid  circular  room,  60  feet  in  diameterj 
with  recesses  and  galleries,  making  it  80  feet  in  dia- 
meter, surmounted  by  a  dome,  supported  by  16  beau- 
tiful Corinthian  columns,  30  feet  high,  ornamented  in 
the  dome  with  stucco,  and  at  top  with  a  skylight.  On 
each  side,  on  the  outside,  are  13  pilasters,  in  perfect 
keeping  with  the  pillars  on  the  two  fronts.     The  cost 


VA- 


NEW   YORK. 


611 


of  the  building  and  its  furniture  was  ^950,000 ;  and 
including  the  ground,  $1,175,000. 

The  City-Hail,  heretofore  regarded  as  much  the 
finest  building  in  the  city,  and  one  of  the  finest  in  the 
United  States,  has  a  commanding  situation  in  the 
middle  of  the  Park,  though  somewhat  in  the  rear,  and 
shows  to  greater  advantage  than  either  of  the  fine 
buildings  already  described.  It  has  more  ornament 
than  either  the  Exchange  or  the  Custom-house,  but 
less  simple  grandeur ;  though  with  its  furniture,  it  is, 
perhaps,  the  most  interesting  building  in  the  city.  It  Is 
216  feet  long,  and  105  wide.  The  front  and  ends  are 
constructed  of  white  marble,  and  the  rear  of  brown 
freestone.  It  is  two  stories  high  above  the  basement, 
with  a  third  or  attic  story  in  the  centre  building ;  and 
there  rises  from  the  centie  a  lofty  cupola,  containing  a 
city  clock  of  fine  workmanship,  and  on  the  top,  a 
colossal  statue  of  Justice.  In  the  upper  part  of  this 
cupola  is  a  room  occupied  by  a  man  whose  business  it 
is  to  give  alarm  in  cases  of  fire ;  and  from  this  ele- 
vated position,  he  is  able  to  overlook  the  whole  city. 
Behind  this  is  another  less  elevated  cupola,  with  eight 
fine  Corinthian  columns,  which  contains  the  City-hall 
bell,  weighing  6910  pounds,  whose  deep  and  solemn 
tones  often  sound  the  knell  of  property,  and,  by  the 
different  number  of  strokes,  indicate  the  district  of  the 
city  in  which  a  fire  occurs.  The  front  of  the  City-Hall  is 
ornamented  with  columns  and  pilasters  of  the  Ionic, 
Corinthian,  and  Composite  orders,  rising  above  each 
other  in  regular  gradation.  The  building  is  entered  iu 
front  by  a  flight  of  12  marble  steps.  There  are  halls 
which  lead  from  the  centre  to  each  end  of  the  building 


v. 


<-  11 


ifi  ■? 


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512 


QREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


in  each  story.  In  the  basement  and  the  stories  there 
are  28  offices  and  other  public  rooms,  the  most  con- 
spicuous of  which  are  the  Governor's  room,  and  the 
chambers  of  the  common  council  and  assistant  alder- 
men. 

The  Hall  of  Justice  occupies  the  whole  space  between 
Centre,  Elm,  Leonard,  and  Franklin  streets,  and  is  a 
unique  and  beautiful  building  of  the  Egyptian  archi- 
tecture. This  building,  though  handsome  of  its  kind, 
has^  heavy  and  gloomy  aspect,  which  has  acquired  for 
it  the  name  of  the  Egyptian  Tombs.  It  is  constructed 
of  a  light  coloured  granite,  from  Hallowell,  Me. 

Among  the  churches  some  deserve  to  be  particularly 
noticed,  on  account  of  their  architecture.  The  new 
Trinity  Episcopal  church  is  one  of  the  6ne8t  buildings 
of  the  city,  and  the  most  complete  Gothic  structure  in 
the  United  States.  It  stands  at  the  head  of  Wall- 
street,  which  it  fronts.  It  is  in  the  finest  style  of 
English  church  architecture,  built  of  a  light  brown 
freestone,  with  much  beautifully  ornamented  sculpture 
in  its  various,  parts ;  is  192  feet  long  upon  the  outside, 
84  feet  wide,  and  the  steeple  is  264  feet  high,  built  of 
stone  to  the  top.  Above  the  first  story  is  a  roof  which 
considerably  narrows  the  building  in  the  second  story 
as  is  common  in  the  old  churches  of  England.  The 
inside  is  even  more  imposing  than  the  outside.  St 
Paul's  Episcopal  chapel  is  situated  on  Broadway,  be- 
tween Fulton  and  Vesey  streets,  and  the  burying 
ground  extends  W.  to  Church-street,  and  thus  includes 
the  whole  block,  400  by  180  feet,  surrounded  by  a 
handsome  iron  railing.  The  body  of  the  church  is  90 
by  70   feet,  with   a  beautiful  spire,  200  feet   high, 


r  '. 


'■■' 


NEW   YORK. 


na» 


618 


painted  and  overcnat  with  sand  to  resemble  brown 
frecfttone.  St.  John's  Episcopal  chapel  is  situated  oh 
Varick-street,  directly  opposite  the  centre  of  St.  John's 
pquare,  h  n  buildin;:  of  fine  ]>roportions  and  beautiful 
oppoiinuioe,  nas  liiiisliod  in  1810,  and  cost  over 
$200,00(1.  It  is  111  loet  l(»nt^  and  73  wide,  built  of 
Btone,  and  has  an  udmirably  proportioned  steeple,  220 
feet  high. 

Grace  Church  i.s  a  splendid  edifice,  entirely  eon- 
Ptrueted  of  !narbl»».  Its  e<>n;^regation  ranks  next  in 
wealth  to  that  of  Trinity  church. 

New  York  contaijia  a  large  number  of  literary  and 
charitable  associations.  The  Columbia  College  and  the 
University  of  New  York  are  the  chief  of  the  educa- 
tional estublishments.  They  are  well  conducted,  and 
extensively  patronised.  Seminaries  and  schools  of  all 
kinds  are  numerous. 

The  hotels  are  unsurpassed  in  the  United  States. 
The  Asior  House,  Metropolitan,  *'  Howard's,"  and  the 
Irving  House  hold  the  foremost  rank.  The  two  first 
mentioned  are  said  to  be  superior  to  any  thing  of  the 
kind  in  Lonilon  or  Paris.  The  public  and  private 
buildings  generally  are  lighted  with  gas.  The  most 
splendid  and  expensive  work  undertaken  by  the  city  is 
the  Croton  Waterworks.  The  aqueduct  commences 
at  the  Croton  river,  5  miles  from  Hudson  river,  in 
Westchester  county.  The  long  dam  creates  a  pond, 
covering  a  surface  of  four  hundred  acres  containing 
600,000  gallons  of  water.  The  aqueduct  which  is  8 
feet  high  and  7  feet  broad,  and  built  of  bricks,  stone, 
and  cement,  proceeds  a  distance  of  38  miles,  tunnelling 
fcolid   rocks,   crossing   valleys    by   embankments,    and 


j  m 


M 


614 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


Harlem  river  by  a  magnificent  bridge  of  stone,  to  the 
receiving  reservoir,  at  8Gth  street.  The  water  is  of 
the  purest  river  water.  Free  hydrants  are  to  be  found 
in  most  of  the  streets.  The  estimated  cost  of  this  great 
work  is  $12,000,000.  An  extensive  inland  trade  cen- 
tres in  New  York  by  means  of  the  ]larlcm,  Erie,  and 
Hudson  raih'oads,  and  numerous  tuinj>ikos.  The  manu- 
factures are  of  all  kinds,  and  roach  un  immense  value. 
The  government  of  the  city  is  entrusted  to  a  mayor, 
elected  annually,  and  a  board  of  aldermen. 


*' 

i 


HMPM 


NEW  ORLEANS. 


EW  ORLEANS  is  the  prin- 
cipal  commercial  city  in  the 
southern  part  of  the  Union. 
It  stands  on  the  left  bank 
of  the  Mississippi,  100  miles 
from  the  sea  by  the  course 
of  the  river,  but  only  15 
miles  from  the  bay,  impro- 
perly called  Lake  Borgne, 
and  four  from  Lake  Ponchartrain.  New  Orleans  was 
founded  by  the  French  under  Iberville,  in  1717.  In 
1769,  it  was  occupied  by  the  Spaniards,  and  continued 
in  their  hands  for  34  years.  The  population  in  1769 
amounted  to  3190,  and  the  exports  were  already  very 
valuable.  The  commerce  suffered  by  the  restrictions 
of  the  Spaniards.  About  1785,  the  Spanish  govern- 
ment adopted  a  more  liberal  policy,  and  the  trade  of 
the  city  revived.  In  1788,  a  fire  consumed  900  houses. 
Under  the  government  of  the  Baron  Carondelet  the 
city  was  vastly  improved,  the  canal  Carondelet  con- 
structed, and  some  fortifications  begun.  On  the  21st 
of  March,  1801,  Louisiana  was  ceded  by  Spain  to  the 
French  republic,  and  on  the  30th  of  April,  1803,  Bona- 
parte, as  first  consul,  sold  it  to  the  United  States,  for 
about  $15,000,000,  and  it  was  taken  possession  of  on 
the  30th  of  November.     The  population  of  the  city  did 

41  (517) 


518 


GEEAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


V 


not  then  exceed  8,056.  The  Roman  Catholic  religion 
was  the  only  one  allowed  publicly.  In  1804  New 
Orleans  was  made  a  port  of  entry  and  delivery,  and  in 
the  next  year,  a  city  charter  was  granted.  Early  in 
December,  1814,  the  British  approached  New  Orleans 
with  about  8000  men,  by  the  way  of  LaLes  Borgno  and 
Ponchartrain.  The  American  gunboats  were  compelled 
to  surrender,  after  a  terrific  resistance,  in  which  the 
British  loss  was  about  250  men.  Gen.  Jackson  had 
prepared  an  extensive  system  of  defence  for  New 
Orleans.  On  the  evening  of  tb^  23d  of  December,  the 
American  commander  made  a  furious  attack  upon  the 
British  camp,  killed  and  wounded  a  considerable  num- 
ber of  men,  and  retired  with  but  little  loss.  On  the 
28th  of  December,  the  British  made  an  unsuccessful 
assault  upon  the  works  of  the  Americans.  The  decisive 
action  occared  on  the  8th  of  January,  1815,  when  the 
British  army  was  repulsed,  with  the  loss  of  two  thou- 
sand men.  Sir  Edward  Packenham,  the  British  com- 
mander-in-chiof,  was  killed.  Gener.il  Gibbs,  the  second 
in  command,  was  mortally  wounded.  Gen.  Lambert, 
who  succeeded  to  the  command  of  the  army,  despairing 
of  success,  retired  to  the  squadron.  Jackson,  wishing 
to  hazard  nothing,  allowed  the  enemy  to  retreat  unmo- 
lested. Peace  was  concluded  before  this  battle  occurred. 
In  May,  1816,  the  levee,  nine  miles  above  New  Orleans, 
broke  through,  and  the  back  part  of  the  city  was  inun- 
dated. The  crevasse  was  fiu?lly  closed,  chiefly  by  the 
exertions  of  Gov.  Claiborne.  The  same  calamity  has 
occurred  on  one  occasion  since,  a  vast  amount  of 
property  being   destroyed.     The  yellow  fever   is   an 


NEW   ORLEANS. 


519 


annual  visitor  of  the  city  in  the  summer  season,  and  it 
sonKJtimes  commits  great  havoc. 

New  Orleans  now  contains  about  140,000  inhabit- 
ants, who  arc  Americans,  French,  Creoles,  Spaniards, 
with  a  mixture  of  almost  every  nation  on  the  globe. 
It  is  totally  unlike  any  other  city  in  the  United  States. 

The  position  of  New  Orleans  as  a  vast  commercial 
emporium  is  unrivalled ;  for  the  Mississippi,  with  its 
numerous  tributaries,  brings  to  it  for  a  market,  the 
product  of  20,000  miles  of  navigation,  and  the  immense 
resources  of  the  great  valley  are  yet  but  partially 
developed.  The  city  proper  is  in  the  form  of  a  paral- 
lelogram, running  along  the  river  1320  yards,  and 
extending  back  700  yards.  This  portion  of  the  city  is 
traversed  by  22  streets,  forming  84  principal,  and  14 
minor  squares.  The  whole  extent  of  the  city,  including 
its  incorporated  fnuxbourgs,  is  not  less  than  five  miles 
parallel  with  the  river,  and  it  extends  perpendicularly 
to  it  from  a  quarter  to  three  quarters  of  a  mile ;  and 
to  the  Bayou  St.  John,  two  miles.  The  houses  are 
principally  of  brick,  except  some  of  the  ancient  and 
dilapidated  dwellings  in  the  heart  of  the  city,  and 
some  new  ones  in  the  outskirts.  The  modern  buildings, 
particularly  in  the  upper  parts  of  the  city,  or  Second 
Municipality,  are  generally  three  and  four  stories  high, 
■with  elegant  and  substantial  granite  fronts.  Many  of 
the  houses  in  the  outer  parts,  are  surrounded  with 
gardens,  and  ornamented  with  orange  trees.  The  view 
of  the  city  from  the  river,  in  ascending  or  descending, 
is  beautiful,  and  on  entering  it,  the  stranger  finds  it 
difficult  to  believe  that  he  has  arrived  at  an  American 
city.    This  remark  applies  especially  to  the  central  and 


I 


520 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


«► 


lowex*  parts,  where  the  older  buildings  are  ancient  and 
of  foreign  construction,  wIuto  the  manners,  customs, 
and  language  are  so  various ;  the  population  being  very 
nearly  equally  made  up  of  Americans,  French,  Creoles, 
and  Spaniards,  with  a  mixture  of  almost  every  nation 
on  the  globe.  During  the  business  season,  extending 
from  the  frst  of  November  until  July,  the  Levee,  in  its 
whole  extentj  is  crowded  with  vessels  of  all  sizes,  from 
all  quai  ters  of  the  world  ;  with  hundreds  of  large  and 
fiplendid  steamboats,  and  numerous  barges  and  tint 
boats,  &c.  l^iothing  can  present  a  more  busy,  bustling 
ocene  thau  the  levee  at  this  time,  the  loading  and 
unloading  of  vessels  and  steamboats,  with  1500  drays 
transporting  tobacco,  cotton,  sugar,  and  the  various 
and  immense  produce  of  the  far  west.  In  1836,  the 
legislature  passed  an  act  dividing  the  city  into  throe 
municipalities,  ranking  them  according  to  their  popula- 
tion. The  first  includes  the  city  proper,  extending, 
with  that  width,  from  the  river  back  to  Lake  Ponchav- 
train,  and  occupying  the  centre :  the  second  adjoining 
it  above,  and  the  third  below,  both  extending  from  the 
river  to  the  lake.  Each  municipality  has  a  distinct 
council  for  the  management  of  its  internal  affairs,  which 
do  not  encroach  on  the  general  government. 

Among  the  public  buildings,  the  Cathedral  or  Church 
of  St.  Louis  on  the  Place  d'Armes  or  Parade-Square, 
strikes  the  stranger  forcibly  by  its  venerable  and  an- 
tique air.  It  was  founded  in  1792,  and  to  a  certain 
extent  completed  in  1794.  The  loAver  story  is  of  a  ruij- 
tic  order,  flanked  at  each  of  their  front  angles  by  hexa- 
gonal towers,  projecting  one  half  of  their  diameter, 
crowned  by  low  spires.     The  second  story  is  of  the 


xr.w  nr;.::^^:.- 


531 


■  fi 


UBDRCH  OF  ST.  LOUIS,  NEW  0RLKAM3. 


Roman  Doric  order.  Above,  on  the  apex  of  llio  pc(]i- 
ment  of  this  story,  rises  the  princij)al  tnrrt't,  s(in;tre 
below,  about  20  iVet  InV-h,  .-mvI  hexa^ironal  a)M»\c,  witii 
a  beir, y  \\\i]\  aprrtin-cs  it,  e;'''i  ^id'j  to  let  nut  iha 
BouJiii,  o!;!)  an  cluv;!!!'!  li'iii  ;'•!(:  aiioMj.      i]v(:;v  Ir-.ilur- 


•1   k 


522 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


\ 


day  evening,  by  tlie  conditions  of  its  erection,  masses 
are  oftered  for  the  soul  of  its  founder,  Don  Andrd,  and 
at  sunset  on  that  day,  tlie  tolling  of  its  bell  recalls  hia 
memory  to  the  citizens.  On  the  right  of  it,  looking 
from  the  square,  is  a  large  building  of  the  Tuscan  and 
Ionic  orders,  two  stories  high,  occupied  by  various 
offices  in  the  lower  stories,  and  in  the  second  storv 
by  the  court-rooms  of  the  parish,  district  and  criminal 
courts,  with  the  offices  for  their  clerks.  On  the  left  of 
the  cathedral  is  a  building,  corresponding  to  the  one 
last  described,  the  lower  story  containing  the  city 
guard-room  and  the  police  prison,  and  above  the  offices 
of  the  mayor,  the  city  treasurer,  the  comptroller,  and 
the  common  council-room.  The  second  Presbyterian 
church  is  finely  located,  fronting  on  La  Fayettc-square, 
the  handsomest  public  place  in  the  city.  It  is  of  the 
Grecian  Doric  order,  with  a  fine  portico.  The  basement 
is  of  granite,  the  remainder  of  brick,  plastered  to  imitate 
stone.  It  was  completed  in  July,  1835,  and  cost 
$55,000.  In  the  court  in  front,  is  a  neat  obelisk,  erected 
to  the  memory  of  Rev.  Sylvester  Larned,  the  first  Pres- 
byterian pastor  in  ihe  city,  who  died  in  1820,  at  the 
early  age  of  24,  deservedly  lamented.  The  new  Method- 
ist Episcopal  church,  corner  of  Poydras  and  Carondelet 
streets,  is  of  the  Grecian  Doric  order,  copied  from  the 
temple  of  Theseus  at  Athens,  it  has  a  fine  portico, 
and  a  steeple  rising  from  an  octangular  obelisk,  resting 
on  a  lofty  pedestal  of  Egyptian  archit  ture,  combining 
novelty,  grandeur,  and  beauty.  The  stcople  is  170 
feet  high  from  the  side-walk,  and  the  building  was  com- 
pleted in  1837,  at  an  expense  of  $50,000.  The  first 
Congregational  church  is  a  plain  brick  edifice  in   ihe 


I 


NEW   ORLEANS. 


628 


Gothic  style  of  architecture,  finished  in  1819,  at  an 
expense,  including  the  cost  of  the  ground,  of  $70,000. 
Rev.  Sylvester  Lamed,  its  first  pastor,  died  of  the 
epidemic  in  1820.  St.  Antoine's,  or  the  Mortuary 
chapel,  at  the  corner  of  Oonti  and  Rampart  streets, 
was  erected  as  a  place  for  the  exhibitron  of  the  bodies 
of  the  dead,  and  the  performance  of  the  funeral  cere- 
monies according  to  the  Roman  Catholic  ritual.  It  is 
a  neat  edifice  of  the  Gothic  composite  order,  and  cost 
$16,000.  All  the  funeral  ceremonies  of  the  Roman 
Catholics  are  performed  here.  The  Ursuline  chapel, 
is  a  building  in  the  quaint  old  style  of  architecture, 
erected,  according  to  a  Spanish  inscription  on  a  marble 
tablet,  in  1787,  and  is  an  interesting  monument  of 
former  times.  The  State-house,  formerly  the  Charity 
hospital,  was  purchased  by  the  state  in  1834.  It  con- 
sists of  a  centre  building  and  two  detached  wings.  It 
occupies -a  whole  square  between  Canal  and  other 
streets.  The  entrance  from  Canal-stroct  is  through 
ground  laid  out  and  ornamented  as  a  pleasure  ground, 
and  neatly  kept.  The  principal  building  is  occupied 
by  the  chambers  for  the  senate  and  house  of  represent- 
atives, and  offices .  for  the  clerks  and  others.  The 
wings  are  occupied  with  offices  for  tiio  governor,  the 
secretary  of  state,  the  treasurer,  and  other  public 
officers.  The  new  Charity  hospital  is  a  large  building, 
completed  in  1834,  at  an  expense,  including  the  ground, 
of  $149,571.  The  old  Charity  liospital,  (now  tho  .^tate- 
house)  was  purchased  by  the  stale  for  ^125,000,  fur 
bonds  payable  in  fifty  years  at  five  per  cent,  interest. 
The  new  Charity  hospital  is  290  feet  long  and  three 
Btories  high,  and  is  entered  from  Common-street  under 


>l 


1 


624 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


a  Poric  portico.  The  cupola  presents  a  magnificent 
view  of  the  city  and  its  environs.  The  lower  story  is 
occupied  by  the  library,  the  physicians'  and  surgeons* 
rooms,  a  lecture  room  for  the  medical  college,  &c.,  and 
the  second  and  third  stories  are  divided  into  wards  for 
the  patients,  and  rooms  for  the  accommodation  of  the 
Sisters  of  Charity,  who  devote  themselves  to  an  attend- 
ance on  the  indigent  sick.  It  is  calculated  to  contain  540 
patients.  The  grounds  around  it  are  handsomely  im- 
proved and  neatly  kept.  It  is  a  noble  charity,  rendered 
peculiarly  necessary  by  the  sickness  which  often  prevails 
at  certain  seasons  in  New-Orleans,  particularly  among 
strangers,  who  are  often  cured  in  this  place,  while  others 
are  carried  from  it  to  their  long  home.  The  Franklin 
Infirmary  is  a  private  hospital,  fronting  on  the  Pon- 
chartrain  railroad.  It  is  a  beautiful  building,  Co  by  55 
feet,  and  two  stories  high,  with  an  imposing  portico  in 
front  surrounded  by  handsome  shrubbery,  having  at- 
tached to  it  a  variety  of  buildings,  and  can  accommo- 
date 100  patients.  Several  of  the  markets  are  large 
and  commodious  structures.  Poydras-street  market  is 
402  feet  long  and  42  feet  wide.  The  vegetable  market 
is  172  feet  long,  and  cost  $25,800.  liie  meat  market 
is  built  of  brick,  on  the  levee,  and  extends  from  Ann 
to  Main  streets,  is  a  striking  object  as  the  city  is 
approached  by  water,  and  cost  about  $30,000.  St. 
!Mary's  market  is  in  the  rusticated  Doric  style,  in  the 
second  municipality,  built  of  brick  and  plastered  to 
imitate  granite,  480  feet  long  and  42  wide,  and  cost 
$47,000.  It  was  rented  in  1838  for  $24,650.  Wash- 
ington market,  in  the  third  municipality,  is  designed  to 
be  a  fine  stiucture,  and   is  but  partially  completed. 


V 


jtOtS^^t  NEW   ORLEANS. 


525 


The  theatres  are  among  the  prominent  buildings  of 
New  Orleans.  The  Orleans  theatre  is  a  spacious  edi- 
fice, of  the  liomaii  Doric,  and  a  mixture  of  the  Corinth- 
ian and  Composite  orders,  and  cost  ^180,000.  The 
performances  are  in  the  French  language.  The  Camp- 
street,  or  American  theatre  is  GO  feet  wide  and  160 
deep,  and  cost,  with  its  ground  and  furniture,  $120,000. 
Ii  is  in  the  second  municipality,  and  can  accommodate 
1100  persons.  Several  cotton  presses  are  among  the 
imposing  structures  of  the  city.  The  Orleans  Cotton 
Press  is  on  ground  632  feet  long  and  308  wide,  which 
is  nearly  covered  with  buildings.  It  contains  a  centre 
building  three  stories  high,  surmounted  by  a  cupola, 
which  a  fiords  a  fine  view  of  the  city.  The  wings  are 
two  stories  high,  and  very  extensive.  It  presses  on  an 
average  150,000  bales  of  cotton  annually,  but  its  capa- 
city is  much  greater.  There  are  other  cotton  presses. 
Several  of  tlie  banks  have  fine  buildings,  and  some  of 
the  hotels  are  magnificent.  Two  of  these  hotels,  one 
of  whieli  contains  the  exchange,  coat  ^600,000  each. 
The  United  vStates  Branch  Mint  has  an  edifice  282  feet 
long  and  108  feet  deep,  Avith  two  wings  20  by  81  feet, 
the  wliole  three  stories  high,  which  cost  $182,000.  The 
city  is  supplied  with  water  raised  by  a  steam  engine 
from  the  Mississippi  river,  into  a  reservoir,  constructed 
on  an  artificial  mound,  21  feet  high  at  its  base.  The 
reservoir  is  250  feet  square,  built  of  bricks,  and  plas- 
tered with  hydraulic  cement.  It  is  divided  into  four 
compartments,  to  allow  the  water  to  settle  before  it  is 
distributed  over  the  city  in  Cast  iron  pipes. 

New  Orleans  is  often  familiarly  called  the  Orescent 
Citv,  from  its  form ;  for  though  the  streets  are  straight 


!i 


526 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


those  ^hich  follow  the  river  have  two  turns  at  large 
angles,  giving  it  something  of  this  form.  The  river 
opposite  to  the  city  '}»  half  a  mile  wide,  and  from  100 
to  100  feet  deep,  and  it  preserves  the  name  width  to 
near  its  entrancu  into  tho  gulf  of  Mexico.  On  the  bar 
at  its  mouth  it  has  a  depth  of  from  IS'^  to  16  feet  of 
water,  with  as  oft  muddy  bottom.  Large  and  powerful 
steam  tow-boats,  some  of  which  will  tow  six  large  ves- 
sels, are  constantly  employed  to  facilitate  the  passage 
of  vessels  to  and  fro  from  the  gulf. 

New  Orleans  retains  the  general  characterof  the  com- 
mercial city  of  its  founders — the  French.  The  people 
are  bustling,  lively,  sociable,  and  fond  of  excitement 
and  amusement.  Gambling,  cock-fighting,  horse-racing, 
and  fighting  are  common  vices. 


TBI  mST  nuilBOAT. 


-*,;.■.■    ,■     f 


*U    .  '■''   A*"- 


i  I 


.S  1 


MEXICO. 


EXICO,  the  capital  of  th« 
republic  of  tho  samo  name, 
is  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
as  well  as  populous  cities 
upon  the  American  conti- 
nent. The  original  city  was  called 
Tenochtitlan.  It  was  built  o  a  group 
of  islands  in  the  lako  Ti^cioo,  and 
founded  in  1325.  The  city  was  cc- mooted  with  t'lO 
Kiain  land  by  three  principal  causes  ays ,  of  stone  and 
eftrth,  extending  from  2  to  3  miles  over  the  surround- 
ing marshes.  Those  dikes  still  exist,  and  their  number 
has  since  been  increased.  They  form  at  present  paved 
causeways  across  the  marshy  ground  .,  which  were  for- 
merly covered  with  water ;  and  being  of  considerable 
elevation,  are  useful  in  securing  the  city  from  inunda- 
tion. The  better  to  preserve  the  city  from  the  chanco 
of  this  calamity,  a  great  drain  was  commenced  in  1607, 
which  has  reduced  the  i^Lw;  of  Zimpango  arid  San 
Christoval  within  comparatively  narrow  limits,  and 
prevented  their  waters  in  the  rainy  season  from  flowing 
into  the  lake  of  Te^.cuco,  and  threatening,  as  they 
sometimes  did,  to  submerge  the  city.  When  first  dis- 
covered by  the  Spaniards,  Mexico  was  a  rich  and 
populous  city ;  the  seat  of  government,  religion,  and 
trade.     According  to  Cortez,  it  was  as  large  as  Sevillo 

45  (529) 


I 


580 


GREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  WORLD. 


I-.* 


or  Cordova,  was  well  built  and  well  supplied  with 
various  products ;  but  these  are  the  statements  of  par- 
ties naturally  disposed  to  magnify  their  own  services. 
The  city  was  captured  by  the  Spaniards  in  1521,  after 
a  protracted  siege  in  which  it  was  nearly  destroyed. 
Spain  then  gained  possession  of  the  whole  of  the  terri- 
tory of  Mexico.  The  capital  was  rebuilt.  It  remained 
in  the  hands  of  the  Spaniards  until  the  revolution  of 
1821,  when  the  patriots  gained  possession  of  it.  Since 
that  time  Mexico  has  been  the  capital  of  the  Mexican 
republic.  In  the  frequent  revolutions  it  has  changed 
hands,  and  has  been  the  scene  of  many  a  hard  strife. 
In  1847,  Gen.  Winfield  Scott,  with  a  United  States 
army,  captured  Mexico,  after  a  two  days  struggle  and 
the  surmounting  of  great  obstacles.  The  United  States 
forces  retained  possession  of  the  city  until  the  treaty 
of  Guadalupe  Hidalgo,  in  1848,  when  it  was  surren- 
dered to  the  Mexican  goverment. 

The  city  stands  nearly  in  the  centre  of  an  elevated 
plain  space,  containing  1700  square  miles,  one-tenth  of 
which  is  covered  by  lakes,  and  surrounded  by  mountains. 
The  ground  on  which  the  city  is  built  is  swampy.  The 
largest  buildings  are  erected  on  piles.  The  climate  is 
mild  and  healthy.  Is  is  said  by  Humboldt,  to  be 
"  undoubtedly  the  finest  city — Philadelphia  excepted — 
ever  built  by  the  Europeans  upon  this  continent."  The 
architecture  is  generally  of  a  very  pure  style,  and 
many  of  the  buildings  are  noble  structures.  Hewn 
stone  is  used  for  edifices  of  all  kinds.  The  gates  and 
balustrades  are  of  Biscay  iron,  ornamented  with  bronze, 
and  the  houses,  which  are  three  or  four  stories  high, 
have  flat,  terraced  roof?,  like  those  in  Italy.    The 


■*i> 


MEXICO. 


581 


streets  generally  cioss  envU  otlier  at  right  angles,  and 
wide,   and   well-pavtMl   with    Hag  stones,   but   not 


are 


lighted  or  watched  at  night,  so  that  robberies  and 
assassinations  are  frequent.  Nearly  all  the  houses  are 
hollow  squares,  with  open  courts,  surrounded  by  colon- 
nades, and  ornamented  with  plants.  Numbers  of  houses 
are  covered  with  glazed  porcelain,  in  a  variety  of  ele- 
gant designs  and  patterns.  The  Plaza  Major,  or  great 
square,  is  in  the  centre  of  the  city,  and  is  one  of  the 
finest  to  be  seen  in  any  metropolis.  The  cathedral, 
national  palace,  and  other  large  and  imposing  build- 
ings are  situated  on  this  plaza,  and  numerous  bazaars 
make  it  a  fashionable  resort.  The  Plaza  de  Toros  for 
the  exhibition  of  bull-fights,  is  a  great  circular  enclosure, 
filled  up  exactly  like  that  of  Madrid.  The  Alameda, 
or  public  walk  at  the  west  end  of  the  city,  somewhat 
resembles  a  park,  but  is  rather  stiff  in  its  arrangement. 
Another  open  space,  called  the  JPasseo,  about  two  miles 
in  length,  planted  with  double  rows  of  trees,  is  much 
frequented  on  holydays.  In  the  city  also  are  several 
Portales,  or  covered  colonnades,  lined  with  shops  and 
stalls,  forming  a  favourite  evening  promenade.  On  fine 
dry  evenings,  the  environs  present  a  busy,  lively,  and 
interesting  spectacle.  Hundreds  of  canoes,  variously 
decorated,  are  seen  passing  along  the  lake  and  canal, 
each  canoe  having  a  guitar  player  at  the  stern,  and 
some  of  the  party  either  singing  or  dancing. 

The  cathedral,  on  the  north  side  of  the  great  plaza, 
is  a  heterogeneous  edifice,  built  in  a  combination  of 
styles,  the  Gothic  and  Italian  predominating.  The 
interior  is  imposing,  lofty,  and  magnificent.  The  na- 
tional palace  has  a  front  several  hundred  feet  in  extent, 


582 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


and  contains  four  extensive  courts.  The  edifice,  how- 
ever, is  somewhat  dilapidated.  There  are  numerous 
churches  and  convents  in  the  city,  and  some  of  them 
are  handsome  buildings. 

The  markets  of  Mexico  are  well  supplied  by  the 
floating  gardens  in  its  neighbourhood.  The  trade  carried 
on  by  the  city  is  not  very  extensive,  nor  are  the  manu- 
factures very  remarkable  or  valuable.  A  fine  road 
connects  the  city  with  the  port  of  Vera  Cruz,  abo'it 
800  miles  distant. 

The  population  of  Mexico  now  amounts  to  about 
155,000  persons,  of  whom  about  70,000  are  Creoles,  or 
descendants  of  Spaniards.  Some  of  the  successful 
speculators  in  mines  are  very  rich  and  they,  with 
those  who  have  inherited  property,  constitute  the  higher 
class.  The  lower  orders  are  on  a  level  with  the  lazza- 
roni  of  Naples.  The  very  rich,  and  the  very  poor  are 
numerous.  But  the  middle  class  is  small.  The  customs 
and  manners  of  the  people  do  not  differ  in  any  respect 
from  those  of  the  Spaniards.  Morals  are  in  very  low 
estimation.  The  ladies  have  the  remarkable  habit  of 
smoking  cigars,  which  renders  them  any  thinjg  bftt 
agreeable  to  foreigners.  Still  many  of  them  are  hand- 
some, and  some  fascinating. 


.i 


i 


BOSTON. 


s 


w 


OSTON,  the  capital  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, the  chief  city  of 
New  England,  the  second 
city  in  commerce,  and  the 
fourth  in  population  in  the 
United  States,  is  pleasantly 
situated  on  a  peninsula, 
three  miles  long,  and  little 
over  one  broad,  at  the  head 
of  Massachusetts  Bay.  Bos- 
ton is  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  famous  cities  in  the 
Union,  alike  honored  by  the  character  of  its  first  settlers, 
and  the  great  events  in  which  it  has  taken  the  lead. 

In  1626,  Rev.  William  Blackstone  built  the  first 
house  upon  the  ground  now  occupied  by  Boston.  The 
Indians  called  the  peninsula  Shawmut — the  English, 
Trimouutain,  from  its  three  hills.  The  first  sub- 
stantial fountlrttion  of  Boston  was  in  1630,  when  a 
large  number  of  emigrants  arrived  in  Massachusetts, 
under  Mr.  John  Winthrop,  the  first  governor,  who 
made  his  residence  at  Charlestown,  but  soon  removed  to 
Boston,  with  a  number  of  the  principal  settlers.  Soon 
after,  the  settlement  at  Trimountain  was  named  Bos- 
toi  after  u  town  of  that  name  in  Entrland.  The  town 
increased  very  rapi<lly.  Several  distinguished  ministers 
arrived  from  England.  A  general  court  was  estab- 
lished.    The  natives  were  conciliated,   and  many  of 

(635) 


536 


GREAT   CITIES   OF   THE   WORLD. 


them  were  converted  to  Christianity.  Several  forts 
were  erected,  however,  to  provide  ugainst  hostility. 
The  people  of  tho  town  were  consuieretl  as  memberfi 
of  one  congregation,  and  all  who  diason^-vd  from  the 
majority  in  religious  beli'>f  were  bariisLed.  Ai  early 
as  1646,  the  Liberty  Tree,  afterwards  so  famous, 
was  planted  at  the  coi  ner  of  the  present  Washington 
and  Essex  streets.  It  continued  to  flourish  until  the 
Revolution,  when  it  was  cut  dowr.  by  the  British 
Boldiers.  Ominousiy,  however,  one  of  the  sol^^'^rs  was 
killed  by  its  fall.  In  1656,  tbo  Qankeri!  visited  tho 
colony,  and  afterwards  caused  much  trouble.  In  1684, 
Massij-ciiusetts  was  deprived  of  its  charter,  in  con- 
sequf.'co  of  the  many  manifestations  of  resistance  to 
arlHrary  power.  Five  years  afterwards,  in  1689,  the 
people  l^seized  Sir  Edmund  Andros,  the  English  gov- 
ernor, and  put  him  in  prison.  This  bold  step  was  ap- 
proved by  the  enemies  of  James  II.,  of  England.  In 
1700,  Boston  contained  1000  houses,  and  7000  inhabi- 
tants. In  1701,  the  representatives  of  the  town  wero 
instructed  to  endeavour  to  obtain  the  abolition  of  sla- 
very, one  of  the  earliest  movements  in  the  world  on  the 
subject.  The  Boston  News  Letter,  the  first  newspaper 
in  America,  was  published  by  John  Campbell,  at  Bos- 
ton, in  1704.  The  stamp  act  was  passed  in  the 
British  parliament,  on  the  22d  of  March,  1765.  The 
Bostonians  immediately  took  the  lead  in  opposing  its 
extension,  as  well  as  that  of  several  other  oppressive 
and  obnoxious  acts.  On  the  5th  of  March,  1770,  the 
"Boston  massacre"  occured,  in  which  the  soldiers, 
after  some  provocation,  fired  upon  the  inhabitants, 
killing  three  persons,  and  mortally  wounding  threo 


BOSTON. 


537 


f 


others.  This  caused  the  inhabitants  to  demand  the  re- 
moval  of  the  soldiers  from  the  town.  In  March,  1774, 
the  Boston  Port  Bill  passed  the  British  parliament.  Soon 
after,  the  citizens  determined  to  break  off  all  intercourse 
with  Great  Britain.  Seventeen  persons  disguised  as 
Indians,  aided  by  a  crowd  of  citizens,  went  on  board 
some  Indian  ships  in  the  harbour,  and  emptied  342 
chests  of  tea  into  the  docks.  The  leaders  of  tho 
patriots  at  this  exciting  period  were  James  Otis,  Jo- 
seph Warren,  John  Adams,  Josiah  '  Quincy,  and 
Samuel  Adams.  The  battle  of  Lexington  roused  the 
people  of  Massachusetts  to  assert  their  rights  by  force 
of  arms.  On  the  19th  of  April,  1775,  occurred  the 
famous  battle  of  Breed's  Hill,  the  first  great  contest 
of  the  war  of  indepeni'-noo,  in  which  General  Warren 
and  other  gallant  patriots  fell.  Charlestown  was  burned 
during  the  fight.  Gen.  Washington  now  arrived  and 
took  command  of  tho  large  but  undisciplined  forces 
of  patriots  assembled  around  Boston.  The  British 
were  besieged  in  tho  toAvn.  This  was  a  sad  period 
for  Boston.  A  numerous  army  of  foreigners  held  tho 
town,  and  prevented  the  citizens  from  aiding  their 
patriotic  friends  in  the  field.  Want  in  all  shapes  ap- 
peared among  the  inhabitants.  Anxiety  was  pictured 
on  every  countenunco.  Near  by,  lay  the  smouldering 
ruins  of  Charlestown.  At  length  the  British  evacu- 
ated Boston.  Washington  entered  tho  city  in  tri- 
umph, and  was  hailed  as  a  deliverer.  Independence 
was  secured  after  an  eight  years'  struggle.  From  the 
peace  of  1783,  Boston  increased  in  size,  beauty,  and 
population  very  rapidly,  and  we  now  purpose  to  give 
a  conception  of  the  town  as  it  is,  in  1852, 


538 


GREAT   CITIES   OF  THE   WORLD. 


Boston  presents  a  picturesque  and  beautiful  appear- 
ance when  approached  from  the  sea,  and  in  surveying 
its  several  parts  the  traveller  finds  much  to  admire. 
It  consists  of  Old  Boston,  on  the  peninsula,  South  Bos- 
ton, formerly  a  part  of  Dorchester,  and  East  Boston, 
formerly  Noddle's  Island.  The  "Neck"  or  isthmus, 
which  formerly  was  the  only  connection  of  the  penin- 
sula with  the  main  land,  is  over  a  mile  in  length.  This 
Neck,  which  connects  Boston  with  Roxbury,  still  con- 
stitutes the  main  avenue  to  the  city  from  the  south. 
But  .by  a  number  of  extensive  bridges  and  artificial 
avenues,  it  is  connected,  in  various  directions,  with  the 
surrounding  country. 

South  Boston  extends  about  two  miles  along  the 
south  side  of  the  harbour.  It  contains  nearly  600 
acres,  and  is  regularly  laid  out  into  streets  and  squares. 
Nearly  in  the  middle  of  this  tract  are  Dorchester 
Heights  or  Mount  Washington,  130  feet  above  the  sea, 
which  furnishes  many  fine  sites  for  buildings,  and  pre- 
sents a  beautiful  view  of  the  city  and  its  harbour.  On 
these  heights  the  Americans,  under  Washington,  erected 
a  fortification  in  1775,  which  soon  compelled  the  British 
to  evacuate  Boston. 

East  Boston  contains  660  acres  of  land,  and*a  large 
body  of  flats.  It  is  connected  with  Old  Boston  by  a 
steam  ferry,  the  boats  of  which  start  from  each  side 
every  five  minutes,  and  occupy  about  three  minutes 
in  crossing.  It  is  connected  to  Chelsea,  on  the  main- 
land, by  a  bridge  600  feet  long.  The  eastern  railroad 
commences  here.  A  wharf  1000,  feet  long,  called 
Cunard's  wharf,  has  been  liberally  granted,  free  of 
charge  for  20  years  for  the  use  of  the  Liverpool  line 


> ', 


BOSTON. 


6»9 


1 1  • 


of  steam-ships.  East  Boston  has  wholly  grown  up 
since  1833,  and  already  constitutes  an  important  part 
of  the  city. 

The  principal  public  ground  in  the  city  is  the  spa- 
cious Common  on  the  west  side,  which  co;, tains  75 
acres.  It  occupies  the  declivity  of  Beacon  hill,  and 
has  a  pleasantly  diversified  surface ;  and  an  eminence 
near  the  centre  still  bears  the  marks  of  a  British  for- 
tification, thrown  up  in  1775.  North  of  this  eminence 
is  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water,  called  Crescent-pond,  bor- 
dered with  young  and  thrifty  elms.  The  Common  con- 
tains about  600  trees  of  different  sizes,  some  of  them 
100  years  old,  which  add  much  to  its  pleasantness. 

The  Common  is  surrounded  by  an  iron  fence,  about 
a  mile  in  length,  on  the  outside  of  which  is  a  broad 
street ;  and  on  three  sides  of  it  are  rows  of  splendid 
edifices.  A  botanic  garden  containing  25  acres,  is 
separated  from  its  W.  part.  The  State-house,  the  most 
commanding  building  in  the  city,  occupies  its  N.  part. 
No  other  city  in  the  United  States  has  an  equally  splen- 
did public  ground.  From  the  day  when 'the  peaini^ula 
was  purchased  of  an  Indian  sachem,  it  has  never  been 
the  property  of  any  individual ;  it  was  early  reserved 
by  the  citizens  "for  a  training  field  and  other  public 
purposes,"  and  by  a  clause  in  the  city  charter,  the  city 
council  are  forbidden  to  sell  the  Common  or  Faneuil 
Hall. 

The  city  contains  530  streets  and  avenues.  It  was 
originally  laid  upon  no  regular  plan,  and  the  streets 
are  often  crooked  and  narrow ;  but  these  inconveni- 
ences have  been  avoided  in  the  newer  parts,  and  exten- 
sively remedied  by  improvements  in  the  older  parts. 


640 


GREAT   CITIES   OP  THB   WORLD. 


Boston  is  generally  well  built,  mostly  of  brick,  and 
many  of  its  private  residences  are  unsurpassed  in  ele- 
gance by  those  of  any  other  city  in  the  Union.     Many 
of  its  public  buildings  are  of  a  commanding  character. 
Among  the  public  buildings  of  Boston,  the  State- 
house  is  the  principal.     It  occupies  a  commanding  situ- 
ation near  the  summit  of  Beacon  hill,  110  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  sea,  and  fronts  on  the  spacious  Com- 
mon.    Fe\.  public  buildings  in  the  United  States  have 
so  commanding  a  site.     The  edifice  is  173  feet  long, 
and  61  wide.     It  consists  of  a  basement  story,  and 
above  it  a  principal  story,  30  feet  high.     This,  in  the 
centre  of  the  front,  is  covered  with  an  attic,  60  feet 
wide  and  20  feet  high,  supporting  a  pediment.     Imme- 
diately above  this  rises  the  dome,  50  feet  in  diameter 
and  20  feet  high ;  and  the  whole  terminates  with  a 
lantern  crowned  with  an  elegant  pine-cone.    The  dome 
is  ascended  by  a  spiral  stairway  on  the  inside;  and 
from  its  top  is  presented  the  finest  view  in  the  United 
Stjites,  and  which  is  probably  unsurpassed  in  the  world. 
Elevated  230  feet  above  the  level  of  the  harbour,  the 
spectator  looks  down  upon  the  city  as  on  a  map,  and  is 
able  to  trace  its  streets  and  to  survey  its  buildings. 
Before  him  stretches  the  harbour  and  the  extensive  bay 
to  the  east,  sprinkled  over  with  its  hundred  islands ; 
and.  in  other  directions  numerous  beautiful  villages, 
with  their  numerous  spires;  and  a  highly  cultivate^ 
country,  with  many  elegant  country  seats,  embowered 
in  trees,  fill  up   the   beautiful   scene.     A  few  lofty 
mountains  might  add  to  its  grandeur,  but  could  scarcely 
enhance  its  beauty,  to  which  nature  and  art  have  given 
their  highest  embellishment.   Faneuil  Hall  was  erected 


BOSTON. 


541 


t     f 


in  1742,  by  a  gentleman  whoso  name  it  bears,  and  was 
by  hira  presented  to  the  city.  It  is  lOQ  feet  long,  80 
feet  wide,  and  throe  stories  high.  The  lower  story  is 
occupied  by  stores.  Tlio  great  hall  in  the  second  story 
is  76  feet  square  and  28  high,  with  galleries  on  three 
sides,  supported  by  Doric  columns,  and  the  ceiling  is 
supported  by  two  ranges  of  Ionic  columns.  The  west 
end  is  ornamented  by  a  full  length'  portrait  of  Wash- 
ington by  Stuart ;  and  another  copied  from  an  original 
picture,  of  Peter  Faneuil,  Esq.,  the  donor  of  the  build- 
ing. Above  the  great  Hall  is  another  in  the  third 
story,  78  feet  long  and  30  feet  wide,  devoted  to  mili- 
tary exercises,  with  apartments  on  each  pido  for  the 
deposit  of  arms  and  military  equipments.  This  vene- 
rable building  has  been  appropriately  called  "  the  cra- 
dle of  American  liberty;"  for  here  the  orators  of  the 
Revolution  stimulated  the  people  by  their  exciting  elo- 
quence, to  resist  British  oppression.  It  is  the  property 
of  the  city,  and  secured  by  its  charter  from  ever  being 
devoted  to  any  but  public  purposes.  The  city  Hall  or 
old  State  House,  at  the  head  of  State  street,  is  110 
feet  long,  38  feet  wide,  and  three  stories  high,  and 
contains  the  offices  of  the  city  government,  the  Post- 
office,  the  Merchants'  Exchange,  and  a  well- furnished 
news-room.  An  elegant  Merchants'  Exchange,  with  a 
fine  reading-room,  has  been  recently  erected  in  State 
street.  Faneuil  Hall  market  is  a  splendid  edifice,  585 
feet  long  and  50  feet  wide,  having  a  centre  building 
47J  by  55  feet,  projecting  2^  feet  on  the  N.  and  S. 
fronts.  It  is  directly  E.  of  Faneuil  Hall,  between  N. 
and  S.  Market  streets,  which  are  lined  with  splendid 
rows  of  stores  and  warehouses.     The  wings  are  two 


648 


ORBAT  CITIES   OF  THE   Wc  v.'). 


Stories  high,  and  at  the  E.  and  W.  ends  are  fine  porti- 
coes of  four  Grecian  Doric  columns  20  feet  9  inches 
high,  which  support  a  tympanum,  with  a  circular  win- 
dow for  ventilation.  On  the  centre  building  is  a  beau- 
tiful dome,  which  rises  77  feet  from  the  ground,  llie 
lower  story  is  occupied  as  a  market  for  meat,  fish,  and 
vegetables  ;  and  the  country  does  not  furnish  a  more 
splendid  market-hcruse.  The  upper  room  of  the  centre 
building  is  denominated  Quincy  Hall,  from  the  Hon. 
Josiah  Quincy,  noAv  president  of  Harvard  University, 
who  was  mayor  of  the  city  when  the  building  was 
erected.  It  is  70  feet  long  and  50  feet  wide.  Each 
wing  is  divided  into  two  hails  by  brick  partitions,  one 
room  44  by  47  feet,  and  the  other  143  by  47,  used  as 
warerooms  and  for  large  sales.  This  building,  exclu- 
sive of  the  ground,  cost  $150,000,  and  is  an  ornament 
to  the  city.  The  new  Court-house  is  constructed  of 
hewn  Quincy  granite,  is  176  feet  long,  54  feet  wide, 
and  57  feet  high ;  and  the  N.  and  S.  fronts  are  adorned 
with  Grecian  Doric  porticoes  of  four  columns,  which 
weigh  25  tons  each.  The  interior  has  four  court 
rooms,  each  50  by  40  feet,  besides  various  public  oflSces. 
A  new  Custom-house  has  been  erected,  which  has  an 
elegant  Doric  portico  its  whole  length,  and  a  fine  dome 
in  the  centre,  adapted  to  the  wants  of  this  commercial 
metropolis.  The  houses  of  Industry,  Correction,  and 
Reformation  are  pleasantly  situated  in  South  Boston, 
near  the  brow  of  Dorchester  heights,  having  a  fine 
view  of  Boston  and  its  harbour,  and  surrounded  by  61 
acres  of  ground.  Tremont^house  is  one  of  the  finest 
hotels  in  the  United  States,  and  little  inferior  to  the 
celebrated  Astor-house  in  N.  York. 


f 


I 


BOSTON. 


M 


f 


t 


BoBton  is  the  second  commercial  city  in  the  Union, 
and  possesses  one  of  the  best  liarhours  in  the  United 
States.     Including  tho  outer  harbour,  it  extends  from 
Nantasket  to  tho  city,  and  spreads  from  Nahant  to 
Hingham,  containing  75  square  miles.     It  contains  a 
hundred  islands  or  rocks  above  water,  and  receives 
Mystic,  Charles,  and  Neponset  rivers.     Tho  principal 
islands  are  Governor's  island,  containing  fort  Warren, 
and  Castle  island,  containing  Fort  Independence.  Bos- 
ton has  over  90  wharves,  many  of  which  are  lined  with 
large  and  splendid  stores  and  warehouses.     The  prin- 
cipal are  India  wharf,  which  is  980  feet  long  and  from 
246  to  280  feet  wide,  in  the  middle  of  which  is  an 
extensive  row  of  stores  four  stories  high.     It  was  con- 
structed in  1805.     Central  wharf  is  1379  feet  long  and 
150  feet  wide.     In  the  centre  is  a  line  range  of  stores, 
and  over  the  centra^  hall,  in  the  middle,  is  an  astrono- 
mical observatory,  with  a  telegraph,  communicating, 
through  an  intermediate  one,  with  another  on  Point 
Alderton  hill,  at  Nantasket.     It  was  built  in  1816. 
Long  Wharf,  at  the  foot  of  State  street,  is  1800  feet 
long,  and  200  wide,  on  which  are  76  spacious  ware- 
houses.    A  well  of  fresh  water,  90  feet  deep  in  the 
centre  of  this  wharf,  extensively  supplies  the  shipping 
with  pure  and  wholesome  water.     This  wharf  was  con- 
structed in  1710,  but  has  since  been  greatly  improved. 
There  are  fifteen  academies  or  grammar  schools,  with 
2629  students,  and  137  common  and  primary  schools, 
with  14,003  scholars. 

Boston  has  106  literary  and  charitable  societies. 
Among  the  literary  societies  of  a  high  order  is  the 
American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences,  founded  in 


!       I 


^W^^P 


OREx\T    CITIES    OF  THE    WORLD. 


n 


r 


1780,  which  has  published  four  quarto  volumes  of  its 
transactions,  and  has  a  library  of  over  2000  volumes. 
It  has  numbered  among  its  members  many  distinguished 
persons.  The  Massachusetts  Historical  Society  was 
incorporated  in  1784 ;  and  its  object  is  to  collect  the 
materials  of  a  complete  history  of  the  state  and  of  the 
country. 

There  were,  in.  1850,  65  newspapers,  of  which  12 
were  daily,  some  of  which  were  also  semi-weekly  and 
weekly.  Besides  newspapers,  there  are  a  number  of 
magazines  and  reviews,  the  most  distinguished  of  which 
is  the  North  American  Review,  which  has  contributed 
much  to  raise  the  character  of  American  literature,  not 
only  in  the  Uniied  States,  but  also  in  Great  Britain 
and  other  parts  of  Europe. 

Thpre  are  75  churches  in  Boston,  of  which  15  are 
Unitarian.  12  Congregational,  ninejBaptist,  three  Free- 
will Baptist,  two  Christian  and  one  African  Baptist, 
eight  Methodist,  one  Reformed  Methodist,  one  Christ- 
ian Methodist,  four  Universalist,  one  New  Jerusalem, 
one  Friends,  one  German  Protestant,  four  Roman 
Catholic,  and  some  others. 


V 


THE  END. 


f 


t 


